How a Piece of Myself Was Taken: The Story of Adam Daulton's Appendix

What's an appendix anyways? Well, I think it is sorta the end of a book or it is a small organ in your body that you really don't need. I no longer have mine and here are the someone interesting parts of the story.

Tuesday afternoon, while sitting at work, my stomach began to hurt. I thought I must have ate something that was bothering it, but didn't think too much about it since I had quite a few plans that night. It continued to hurt and Wednesday got worse. By Wednesday evening, I wasn't feeling very good at all, and even skipped out on shoveling my sidewalk and driveway (which I normally do promptly after snows). Instead I stayed inside and practiced on the guitar a bit.

Through the night Wednesday night I didn't feel good at all. My stomach was hurting pretty good, had a fever of 99.9, my heart was palpitating at 120 beats a minute, and was sweating a bunch. I didn't get much sleep and neither did my poor wife. I was feeling bad enough by the time work rolled around that I decided to call in (which I've only done 1 time before for being sick). However, by 11am I was wondering if I made the right decision. My fever was gone, my stomach was feeling much better, and I was thinking I should go in for a few hours or get some things done from home.

That's when Krista was insistent I still go to our family doctor. I didn't want to do so, because that is $25 no matter what. I figured they'd tell me I was constipated, say take some over the counter medicine, and send me on my merry way. I did call our Ask a Nurse hotline though and the nurse I spoke with, after ruling out an appendicitis,  told me it would probably be good to see the doctor about the heart palpitations in the next 8 hours, so I went to see him.

At 2pm the doctor saw me and asked me all the usual doctor questions and then promptly started pushing on my belly. I felt some pain, though still not too much. He told me that he wanted me to have a catscan, just in case. I was thinking this would be worthless, since if it was an appendicitis, I imagined I would be feeling worse rather than better by this point. Then the nurse came in and said don't go anywhere else, go to the hospital, this is STAT! I didn't know real medical people ever used that word, just thought it was a word TV medical shows like using. The things one learns.

By 3:30, after they did some vampire work, I began drinking this watered down kool-aid stuff. Signed several documents saying that if I die it isn't there fault or something like that and finally by 5:30 I finished drinking that stuff so they could see all my organs. You ask what I did for those 2 hours other than drink? I tried laying on a really short waiting room bench and watched Dr. Phil & Oprah. My opinions of those two people haven't changed. I definitely haven't drank their kool-aid like most of the world seems to have done.

I then went into the catscan. It is a big huge wheel, that reminds me of the logo for Star Gate 1. I've never seen that show mind you, just see the DVD covers all the time on Netflix. That's what the catscan looked like. I then lay down, and they hook an IV up and put liquid metal in my body. This isn't the good stuff that turns you in a bullet proof X-Man like wolverine. This stuff just makes you think you are peeing. I had to look to be sure I actually wasn't.

20 minutes later, after being slid back and forth into the big circle, I was done and waiting on a call from the doc. He said, well your appendix is inflamed and you need surgery. I was nervous, not because they'd be cutting on me, oh no. I was nervous because I'd be completely knocked out and naked in a room with people I'd never met before. Also, the last time I was put under in 2004, I didn't exactly behave appropriately afterwords.

By 8pm, they had me in the operating room, which looks just as intimidating as you'd expect it to look. I remember looking into the lights, then the next think I remember is waking up in the pre-surgery room again. My belly shaved and a small chunk of me missing. They had me stay overnight in a recovery room, Krista came and stayed with me, which I appreciated very much. This morning we played a game of Traders of Carthage while I munched on some fruit-flavored ice. Took a few spins around the halls to be sure I was doing okay, and then she brought me home. Surprisingly, at least right now, the most pain I'm in is from the gas they used to fill my belly up. It has migrated to my shoulder.

In the end, I'm glad I listened to my wife and went to the doctor. Better than having it burst and having to spend a week in the hospital and an even longer recovery time. I'm will miss that small part of me that was taken though. I never knew him that well and he didn't even have a name, but he was still part of me.

P.S. If you are still reading this, I'm amazed, because this is the longest post ever.