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“When I was little, I always wanted to spend a few nights in hospital. Not for anything deathly serious, something minor. Just the thought of getting lots of visitors bringing flowers and chocolates and ‘Get Well Soon’ cards so exciting and you would feel so special!”

Personally, I have never had this thought, but recently I have come across a few people making comments like this, and honestly – I wish staying in hospital felt special and was exciting! Let me start from the beginning…

Now I will be the first to admit sometimes I can be a bit melodramatic when I am ill. Everyone gets the odd cold and cough once in a while, however for some reason when I fall ill I never want to get better quickly, and I’ll be sure to have that darn cough for at least 2 weeks 😒

But getting back to the point on this post – this all started on a normal Tuesday. I went to my day job as per usual, (oh – I got a new job btw! Forgot to update the blog on that – sorry!) came home and did the usual things – wash up, eat dinner, have a cuppa tea. Afterwards I got ready to go to my night job (working two jobs is no joke btw, I rate anyone that does it) and everything was going fine.

Fast forward  to about 9pm and after I short trip to the rest room (pfft what do I even sound like right now? Rest room.) I returned to the shop floor with sharp pains in my lower right abdomen, just under my stomach. One of my work colleagues saw me clutching my right side and asked what was wrong, and I said that for some reason it was hurting but I didn’t know why. When he noticed it was my right side, he suggested that it could be my appendix. Now at this point my initial thought was ‘pfft. As if it’s my appendix, its just my bladder or something’ (Coz that’s where your bladder is right Tania? Idiot.) Anyway, I mentioned to my manager that I was in pain. His response? “Take an ibuprofen and see how you feel. Let me cash up, and we’ll reassess the situation.” So I took an ibuprofen, phoned my mum (she said if I was in pain to just come home) and weighted up whether I should go home or not.

Another colleague of mine who has had his appendix removed also told me that I should be going to a&e as soon as possible as it really looked like that’s what it was that was the cause of the pain. After pondering on what to do what do for a further 40ish minutes I finally decided to go home. I got home just after 11, but I was still unsure whether this situation I was in, was severe enough that I should go to a&e for it. But after some deliberation my mum convinced me to just go. So shortly before midnight, mum and I get to a&e and the lady at the desk tells me to take a seat ON THE MOST UNCOMFORTABLE METAL SEATS IN EXISTENCE.

Fast forward 3 and a half hours, a urine & blood test each, and 2 doctors analysing and poking my stomach later; I am told that I need to have ultrasound done on my abdomen, but that the ultrasound people don’t come in until 9am, so I would have to stay the night. Panic ensues. (Not really, but you know what I mean.)

Now in my 23 years of existence, I have never had to stay one night in hospital. Let alone 3 (yeah. I had to stay 3 nights.) So at roughly 4am I am attached to a saline drip and wheeled in a wheelchair to the acute care ward. Yeah. My mum left me at roughly 4:30am, and seriously think I didn’t sleep a wink that night. I think it was the combination being somewhere unknown and the crazy noises I could hear, plus the fact that I am a relatively light sleeper anyway.

I’m going to fast forward a bit now as I am weary on how long this post is getting (whoops! I talk – a lot. And I guess it comes out in my writing. I feel sorry for my family and friends, as I’m sure I’ve talked their ears off recently. Oh well.)

So the next day I went for my scan, starved most of the day (I wasn’t allowed to eat or drink as my stomach needed to be completely empty for the clearest possible picture in the ultrasound) and my sister in-law brought me the tastiest pasty I’ve ever eaten from Greggs ever. (I think that was down to the fact that I hadn’t eaten since 6pm the day before but we’ll roll with it.) I was moved to another ward (The ward they take people getting ready for surgery I later found out) and even though the signs said only 2 visitors per bed at a time – I had 6. The nurses never complained though which I really appreciated. My big bro brought some sort of a burger and chips party to my hospital bed which I was extremely grateful for, as if you know me in real life, you know I am a picky eater.

Thursday morning I was awoken to the news I would be going for surgery to have my appendix removed. When my consultant told me the news I wish I could’ve seen what mt face was like, as she responded to my face to say ‘You look terrified.’ And I was! I have never before gone under general anaesthetic, and I like to think the idea of doctors cutting your stomach up (keyhole or otherwise) would scare anyone!

I won’t get into what happened when I was in the recovery room after the surgery, as;

  1. I had just come around from being under general anaesthetic – so who knows what was real and what was happening in my dream?!
  2. I also had alot of morphine pumped into me (side note – why did no one tell me how tasty morphine is?! ((not addicted don’t worry))) so I doubt anything I was saying during that time made any sense at all. – I’ve asked my family what I was saying but they’re keeping quiet, I think to save me the embarrassment.

As my surgery took place in the afternoon I had to stay another night in hospital. (If it was in the morning I might’ve been sent home the very same day.) But come Friday I was in the clear and ready to go home! I cannot even explain to you how happy I was to come home!

Getting back the ‘quote’ at the top of this post – what I would say is that until you’ve actually had to stay in hospital for whatever reason, you don’t realise what it is actually likestaying in hospital. And much as I appreciate all my visitors, from my darling mother who was with me at every opportunity, to my mate who came and saw me at 1am in the outpatient waiting area just because I said I couldn’t sleep (really appreciated that so much dude! Though I doubt you even read my blog! Aha) – I would much rather have just been at home! And there’s also the fact that you’re not allowed to have flowers in hospital no more! I’m assuming it’s because of allergies, and I’m just happy my family managed to take the ones my best friend brought me (thanks Fatty) home before the nurses saw and threw them out! (Still going strong over a week later btw.)

Saying that, I am extremely grateful for everyone and anyone I came across during my short stay in hospital. All the nurses and consultants who treated me were so so lovely and I although I was itching to go home, I knew I was in good hands. Our NHS truly is a treasure, and after witnessing first hand the brilliant work they do, it just makes me fear for its future even more.

I’m going to leave it there before I get too political up in here (I’ll leave that for a future post I think) as after a week of rest I am returning to my day job from tomorrow. (The doctors have said I am not allowed to do any heavy lifting for 6 weeks, so unfortunately the night job will have to wait.)

And again, I just wanted to say thank you so so much to everyone who came to see me or messaged me to wish me good luck and a quick recovery. I truly appreciate it so so much. The funny thing would be the messages I didn’t receive. But that’s okay, just makes me appreciate the ones I did more, I guess.

On that note I shall leave you all, if you have any questions regarding appendicitis, the surgery etc, feel free to leave it in a comment below and I’ll be sure to get back to you. Has anyone else had there appendix removed? I kinda miss it for some weird reason I am not going to lie… Although I probably shouldn’t, it did try to kill me after all… 

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