A Hospitalization Retrospective

Friday afternoon, completely out of the blue, I got severe cramping in my stomach. I had just eaten some beef for the first time in over a month, and I thought that was it. Nope. I wish.

I may as well tell you up front, since everyone has to know what it was before I get to any other part of the story: I have a busted large intestine. It was leaking bacteria and such throughout my innards. My Dad and his brother had the exact same thing, so it runs in the family.

I didn't get the diagnosis until Saturday afternoon, after a CT (aka CAT) scan. This was not the best of news to be getting. The cute doctor's assistant told me this usually means surgery (maybe that's why they sent her to tell me).

They kept asking me to rate the pain on a 1 to 10 scale and I kept saying 5 because I didn't have any idea where to rate it. It was pretty bad, I kept saying. "Do you want some pain medication?" the cute doctor lady asked. My ears perked up. "Sure!" I said, hopefully not too enthusiastically.

The pain was pretty bad, but it wasn't so bad I couldn't be my curious chatty self. I kept pestering the ER nurse with questions until the pain drugs came. Time between injection of the drugs and my head hitting the pillow: 2.3 seconds.

Having pain drugs injected into my bloodstream is a new experience for me. I don't recommend shooting up drugs to anyone, but I have to admit, it was pretty cool. It was a feeling of warmness coursing through my body, followed by a headrush, and then numbness. It was like a bear hug from God -- a sweet merciful loving God. I didn't see any ship smoke on the horizon, but at least my stomach didn't matter much anymore.

At some point the surgeon came in to introduce himself. I noticed he has the same first name as me. That's about all I remember from that encounter, though I do recall being vaguely upset that the surgeon felt he ought to introduce himself.

They put me up in a room upstairs and this wonderful, awesome nurse kept giving me more pain killers. If we hadn't just discussed my bowel movements at length, I would have proposed right on the spot. If you're out there baby, I miss you. Let's meet up (bring more painkillers).

In the end I didn't go under the knife. They said my body was healing it over and fighting off the infection on its own. I'm home now. I have a followup appointment with the surgeon this week though. From what they say, it probably means surgery at some point in my life. Basically I have to never get constipated ever again. Anyone want some yogurt? I won't be needing it.

And yeah, this means I missed my Diabetes Walk and the date on Sunday. Poor girl probably thinks I'm insane. What girl wants to go out with a guy with a busted large intestine? "Sorry for missing the date babe, but my shitter was full." How do I recover from that? Well, I'll give it a try anyway.

And just for fun, here are a few observations from my hospital stay:

* The ER's mode of thinking is a little more quick and dirty than the people in other departments. I don't mean to imply they're unclean, I just mean they're all about getting the job done now. The nurses upstairs clucked at the IV the ER guy gave me. An IV in the crook of your elbow is the easiest to get in, but it causes pain and can fall out. They prefer the top of the hand.

* If there's one gorgeous woman on staff in any department you're in, she'll be the one who comes in to discuss your bowel movements with you. She'll then ask if you have pain in your penis. This happened to me in two out of two departments.

* The CT scanner thing is a marvelous piece of technology. It's a high level scan they do, before they decide if they need to do more extensive scans, like ultrasound. In my case that was all they needed. Before you go in they inject you with dye. It's warmed up for some reason, probably to make the dye work better. The nurse told me I would feel really warm and get a sensation like I peed my pants, but that it was normal. I didn't feel like I peed, but that was a very strange sensation. Usually injections feel cold. This felt sort of like the pain medication, but the heat was more intense and there was no buzz.

* Nurses do the real work.

* Be nice to your nurses. They have the power to give you pain medication, and they're the ones holding the needle. They know where the extra jello is after the kitchen is closed. Your goal should be to make your nurses your best friends. This is your surest ticket to smooth sailing.

* Some nurses are nicer than others. Some of them will stagger your pain medication out so you get 1 milligram every 2 hours instead of 2 mgs every 4 hours (thus allowing you to keep a rolling buzz). And some won't. Best to find out which kind of nurse you have right off the bat. Guess which kind the potential Mrs. Scribe is?

* If you're a difficult patient, you don't get the best care. If you need help getting in/out of bed, don't ask to get back in bed 5 minutes after getting out. "GUESS who wants back in bed?" I heard two nurses discussing just outside my room. Don't be that person.

* Apparently speaking English is not a requirement to become a doctor or a nurse. This is my only complaint about a couple of the nurses. If you can't conjugate verbs, you can't tell me how to take the medication. Don't bother miming me the directions to the pharmacy, I'm just going to ask the next English speaking person I come across.

* Don't bitch about the IV being put in. Once that's in, you're saved from, according to my calculations, 40 bajillion other injections. If being friends with the nurses is your ticket to smooth sailing, then the IV is the bump up to first class.

* Not to knock on doctors, but they seem to just come around and approve what the head nurse has surmised for them. Making friends with the doctor is a great idea, but you won't see them more than 5 minutes in a 24 hour period. Still, best to use that 5 minutes. Save up all your questions and ask him/her. It's a good idea to research your symptoms on the internet before you go in (I always do this). Doctors are naturally inquisitive people and will listen with an open mind to your ideas, as long as you catch them in that brief window.

* The probability of the doctor coming in is inversely proportional to the amount of time since your last pain medication injection.

* Some doctors have attitude problems. You can just tell they can't believe they're wasting their time talking to you. The small minority who act this way (only 1 in my recent experience), hide it well and are cordial, but they're curt and try to walk out before you have a chance to say anything. Don't be afraid to ask them questions anyway. It's your health, and for all you know, he/she had the lowest passing grade in medical school. If they're just "too important" to stick around talking to you, sometimes going through his/her assistant is the path of least resistance.

* Whoever invented the automatic shutoff arm for the icemaker was a genius.

* If you're going to the ER for yourself, by yourself, take a backpack with some clothes, bathroom items, and books/mags. I was saved by my books. My brother is one town over and I have friends who would have gone to my apt to get things for me, but it's better to just have what you want with you.

* I'm used to my pain medication coming in whiskey form, so these 500mg vicodins are going to be a new experience for me. Rumor has it, "they work".


UPDATE: Uh, yeah. They work.