What Does an Appendix DO, Anyway? Besides Hurt?

Back in mid-May, Hubby was having a hard time... He complained of being really gassy. He wondered if it was just gas from hell, like when you need to fart but you just can't? Maybe it was constipation? He was just kind of miserable all day. He came to bed Wednesday night still complaining of these gas pains and an upset stomach, and they got worse throughout the night. There was a lot of cussing, vomiting, pooping, and writhing in pain. I'd ask him where the pain was and he never said that it was on his right side. He kept thinking that a massive poop would fix the pain. By three or four in the morning, he was just exhausted. He was muttering to himself and both of us were a little punch-drunk from lack of sleep. I finally fell asleep around 4, but he didn't get any sleep. 

I woke back up around 7am or so, and bless his heart, he was pale, sweating, and looked like death. I told him it was time to go to a doctor. And my husband, who generally hates doctors, immediately agreed with me. I got him dressed, packed a bag with my tablet, a book, some snacks (just in case we were there for a while), and decided to take him to a local Urgent Care Center. Again, we were still under the impression that he has a pooping problem, nothing more. 

So we got to the UCC and when we hobbled in, there's probably 10 people in the waiting room, and the nurses all looked completely frazzled. Turns out that their computers were down and they couldn't do anything. So we left, and headed to another UCC up the road. I turned into the wrong location, and I realized that I was at an ancillary ER. I debated leaving to go to the UCC, but something told me insurance costs be damned, take him to the ER. 

The lobby was empty so we were able to check in quickly. He peed in a cup and they took him back to a bed, put him in a gown, and got him hooked up on all the machines. I got a peek at the cup, and dear god, it looked like Amber Ale beer... It was way too dark, and I started to get really worried. (I mean, I'd been worried since about midnight, but this looked really bad, just sitting there). 

They gave him IV fluids, and some morphine (the Morphine, the better!) to lessen the pain, and he just relaxed a bit until one of the doctors came in to physically check him out. When they pressed on his right side, he realized that it hurt, and that was a big clue... It's probably appendicitis! Later, they swapped out the morphine for Dilaudid, which worked much better for him. 

Well, he got a CT scan done and yep, appendicitis. It was time to transfer him to The Big Hospital so that he could be admitted for an appendectomy. He got to ride in an ambulance, but I had to drive over myself, since I had the car. As I was pulling out, I saw the ambulance pulling out of the other exit, and... y'all... I lost it. I didn't plan to. I waved at the ambulance and said, please take care of him, and then I was gone. I think the stress and worry from the past 18 hours caught up with me, and I was just sobbing in the car. And I wasn't thinking straight because I actually thought that I could make better time to The Big Hospital via surface street shortcuts, than could the ambulance. So they went toward the interstate while I went toward the shortcuts. The only issue is that I turned the wrong way on the shortcut road, and was 5 miles out of my way in the wrong way before I realized where I was! So I doubled back, got on the interstate (like I should have in the first place), and went about 90mph to the hospital's exit. 

Parking was hellacious, and I think I found a spot about a quarter-mile away in a parking garage. I was practically running to the ER entrance, lol. When I got inside, holy crap! It looked like some sort of refugee camp. Now, I'll leave politics and social commentary aside, mostly, but damn, people... ERs are NOT where you go for primary care! Even if you're broke! Don't come to the ER because you have a splinter, then bitch because you've been there for 6 hours... there are actual emergencies that need to be taken care of before we can get the splinter out of your fingie, okay?

Anyway, I waited at a lobby window for about 10 minutes until it was my turn, only to be told I had to go to a different window for a Visitor Pass, since he was already in the ER. Twenty minutes later, I finally found him, parked in a bed that was just sitting against the wall in a hallway. The Big Hospital is a Level 1 Trauma Center (yeah, it's a good hospital), which is amazing, but that also means that there's never enough space for everyone in the ER. He was in good spirits, full of Dilaudid, and not feeling much pain at all. He'd already talked with one of the ER doctors, who explained what the next steps were. He would be held in the ER until such time as a room could be secured for him and he could be admitted to the hospital. At that point, he would relax until it was time for surgery. The doctor was patient with him, answering all of his questions, and putting him at ease. I'm so thankful for this doctor, being so patient and so caring!

Making the best of a miserable situation

We were in the ER for a few hours before his room was ready, and then he was wheeled upstairs. He got in bed, all wired up again, and napped on and off, while I was able to get comfy(ish) on the funky recliner in the room. I watched TV for a while, using Wheel of Fortune and Jeopardy! to keep a sense of normalcy happening for me. I munched on some snacks, enjoyed some hospital ice, and worked on the outline for this blog post. 

What Is Appendicitis, Alex?

Every few hours they'd come in to check his vitals, and at 2am, it was finally his turn for surgery. I gave him kisses and watched him leave, and then I headed out myself. I drove home to check on the cat, and to get fresh clothes for both of us. On the way back, I got... dinner?... breakfast?... at Checkers. I thanked God for stoners at that moment, for keeping Checkers in business so that they can be open at 2:30 in the morning for a starving, stressed-out, distraught middle-aged woman to get French fries and a vanilla milkshake. 

Yum, midnight french fries!

Since it was almost 3am when I got back, I got a great parking spot, right outside of the building he was in! I went back up to our floor, but found a sitting area to finish my food - I didn't want him to return to a room that smelled like greasy food. Once I ate, I got a refill of that good hospital ice and headed back to the room. I straightened it up, just like a good little wifey, lol. I wanted the room to be warm and calming for when he came back. 

I think he was wheeled back in about 4am. Earlier, I'd asked about recovery, and they said I could come down, or I could just stay here. Apparently, I'd forgotten all about that! The orderly returning him to me said that when he woke up he was asking about me and was bummed that I wasn't there... oof, my heart. I felt so bad! 

For the next few hours, we slept (him much better than me, as you can imagine) in the dark, except for the few times they came in to check vitals. He was woken up around 8am for breakfast, and this man ate hospital food like it was the finest Michelin Star cuisine. (I tasted some of it, and it was as bad as I remember it being, the last time I had hospital food). About 2 hours later, he was released to go home. We had to wait a little bit to pick up some pain meds from the pharmacy downstairs, though. We walked - slowly - to the car (so close, thanks to that 3am adventure), and drove home. We crawled into bed and crashed for a few hours, holding hands and rubbing each others arms (cuddling was off-limits, obviously!). 

Both of us had the forethought to notify our supervisors about what was happening, so I was able to work from home the rest of the week, and he put in for a short-term Leave of Absence to recover. He works for a very large company, and anything like this is handled by a 3rd party company. What absolute aggravation to fill out these forms, and wait for the company to do what they need to do, all while also waiting for the ER doctors fill out authorization and return to work forms... He was feeling well enough to go back to work by the end of May, but it took forever for the company to get their shit together. I think he was finally back full-time by the end of JUNE! That blew our budget all to hell, but I'm happy to say that by moving things around, we never had to play the "Lights or Groceries?" game. Made me feel like a true grown-up. 

What else made me feel like a grown-up? Getting the bills... shudder.

Sticker price for this was $46,839! But after insurance and adjustments ($40,946), our out-of-pocket cost is only $5,892.26.

LOL... only $6,000. The bill was in two parts; one for the surgery and stay, the other for the ER. I was able to pay for the surgery and stay over a month or two, but the ER (the bigger of the two) kind of just sat there and mocked me. Eventually, I had the smartest idea! Set up a payment plan of a manageable amount per month, pay it with a credit card that earns cash rewards, then pay off that credit card every month. So, I am currently paying about $200 a month, basically interest-free, and earning $5 for each payment. There's no rush to pay it off early, because there's no penalty, so I'm just letting it ride, on auto-pay, until 2025. 

I can hear you, by the way, asking me... So, what does the appendix DO anyway? Well, let me educate you! 

The appendix is a worm-shaped tube attached to the large intestine of the human body. Modern researchers believe that the appendix helps to protect the body's internal environment from infection. Historically, it was thought that the appendix had no function, evolutionary theories believe it might have played a role in digestion. A great deal of evidence suggests that it is a vestigial or evolutionary remnant, which means that it used to serve a specific purpose, though it doesn't now. Several biologist support the theory that it was used by our herbivorous ancestors, as those people had a comparatively larger appendix, and it helped to digest tough herbivorous foods like tree bark. As we evolved and began to eat more easily digestible foods, the appendix lost its function. Some scientists believe that, in time, it will eventually disappear completely from the human body. 

In recent years, research has shown that the appendix has lymphoid cells, which helps the body fight infections; this suggests that the appendix also plays a role in the immune system, producing early defenses that help prevent serious infections in humans.

Other researchers believe that it produces and stores good microbes for the human gut. When good microbes are flushed out from the body, during times of dysentery or cholera, the appendix releases it's stock of "good bacteria" and reboots our digestive system. The fact that the appendix is located at the lower part of the large intestine through which food and microbes pass supports this theory of restocking the microbial flora of the digestive system. 

It's been a year since his appendectomy, and for the most part, he's healed perfectly fine. His procedure was laparoscopic, so there were three entry points: On his left side, his belly button, and in the crease between his pubic area and stomach. I can no longer see any scar in his belly button or crease, and just a faint one on his left side. He sporadically feels some pain there, we're not sure why. My assumption is that his muscles are just knitting back together; he also sat a lot during recovery, and he probably needs to stretch that area out, honestly! Once in a while, he has a hard time picking up or moving heavy objects (like big cases of bottled water, for instance), but that is rare. It's to the point that it's just something that happened last year, and he's moved on from it. 

We've knocked out about 75% of the medical bills; I think we have about $1,500 left to pay, and like I said, it's on auto-pay and I don't have to think about it. 

I hate that this episode made me think about our mortality. Yes, we know we're no spring chickens, and that, at some point, we'll have to deal with things like illness or surgeries. But dammit, I thought I'd have another decade before some sort of emergency happened. I was more worried about how to talk this doctor-hater into a prostate exam and colonoscopy! 

But until that happens, I will snuggle him and cuddle him and love him every single day. I want to have at least 40 more years with this man, and I want him as healthy as possible. 

Oh Lord, it's Happening Again - Meet Steve!

In thinking about New Year, New Me bullshit at the beginning of the year, I had made a few bullet points in my brain, kind of a "Take Care of Myself" to-do list for 2023. Included on that list was replacing my IUD (done!), getting Lasik (just had my consultation!), getting a filling (ugh), and finally seeing a dermatologist to remove the new bump that has resurfaced on my chest.  

Well... Apparently, that bump (that's been slowly creeping back since 2017) has decided to line jump everyone else... He's back and he's angry. 

Back in 2013, when I went to the dermatologist to get a few other moles removed, I pointed out this bump, and they told me it was perfectly normal. Three years after that, it got funky and had to be drained. The bump totally went away and my chest was nice and smooth. I think the first time I have photo proof of the bump being visible again was in 2018, and even then he was tiny, like a mini M&M, and didn't hurt at all. Fast forward to now, and he feels about the size of a Peanut M&M, just hanging out under my skin. No pain or anything, but annoying and ugly and so I wanted him gone. 

I guess he didn't like the threat of eviction, so he began to cyst up. I first noticed a slight pain, like tenderness, in the area around March 17. I wrote it off as post-massage pain (my massage therapist really hurts me sometimes!) and ignored it. But the pain was still there a day or so later, which is unusual. By Sunday, I was sure that the bump was becoming Cysty Spacek, so I started slathering it with Neosporin, hoping to get ahead of it and keep it from coming to a head. 

Shiny Steve, under a blanket of Neosporin

On Monday, March 20, I debated getting an appointment with my general practitioner, but remembered that my employer now has a dedicated health center (woo hoo!), and I was able to score an appointment for the very next day. 

Getting a little bigger... 

On Monday, I headed over to the doctor's office. The ARNP poked and prodded it a bit, agreed with everything I'd told her (I've done all this before, sweetie, I know more than you), and set me up with a round of antibiotics. She also referred me to a local dermatology office, in case I could get in before The Poppening began (but I don't have high hopes). I came home, slathered more Neosporin on it, covered it with a huge Band-Aid, and resigned myself to having to deal with this again. 

Yep, it's getting a pointy part to it, the Poppening will happen soon

Hello, Steve's Head, can't wait to clean you out

He's mean now (Thursday, March 30, for reference)

On Wednesday, it was slightly bigger, as expected. The Band-Aids were more irritating than helpful, so I only covered the bump when I was out and about. On Saturday, I did parkrun, then went grocery shopping, where I must have picked up some cooties, because on Sunday, I started feeling miserable!!! Headache morphing into a migraine, and a fever of 101.5º! I took a long nap, but it didn't help much. I was miserable all day, and I ended up texting my boss that I would be working from home on Monday. 

I beat back the fever and fought the migraine all day, but I was unable to eat anything, which was a new and shitty development. By Tuesday, I was feeling really bad, so I stayed home again, but I was getting overly concerned, so I set up a telehealth with Dr. F at the health center... I wondered if I was having a reaction to the original antibiotic, or if the cyst was leaking and making me sick? She thought I might have a slight case of the flu (remember the flu?) She changed my antibiotic to a different variety, just in case. I ended up eating a package of Honey Stinger gummies for dinner, and took both a Unisom and a Tylenol PM at bedtime... I slept the sleep of the dead.

On Wednesday, I continued to work from home, and I was actually feeling slightly better. The migraine had been replaced by a less terrible, "regular" headache. I was able to eat half a bowl of Lucky Charms. I had something food-adjacent for lunch, and made actual food for dinner (the first "real food" since Saturday, really). My stomach seemed happy to receive it!

On Thursday (March 30th), I assumed all was back to normal. I woke up feeling normal. I took Hubby to work like normal. I hopped in the shower like normal... But by the time I got shampoo in my hair, I knew I was fucked. I was getting dizzy, even though the shower was tepid - not my typical Bathtub of Satan Hot. Shaving my legs was difficult, and I whipped through it as quickly as possible, then got the conditioner out even quicker, and then... 

Well, new Life Accomplishment unlocked, at age 45. I puked in the shower. Luckily it was all water, but wow. I never want to vomit from a vertical position ever again. It was like my body had no idea how to puke vertically. There wasn't any force to the expulsion, it was just such a weird, uncomfortably uncomfortable experience. I got out and rested on the toilet, then did my hair, wrapped myself up, and laid in bed for 20 minutes. I emailed my boss to let her know I was staying home again, then texted Hubby the same. I called the Dermatologist again (they still hadn't called to schedule me for a visit, despite two referrals and me leaving a voicemail with them yesterday), and fortuitously, they had a cancellation, so I scored an appointment for the afternoon at 2:30. Unfortunately, that meant I had to cancel my standing massage appointment, but this was much more important. I picked Hubby up from work around 1:30 and headed over to the Dermatologist.

This was definitely a fancy Dermatologist's office. Everyone was pretty and perfect... {eyeroll} They got me in and told me that they could "express the infection" today, but I'd have to come back to have the sac removed. I was okay with that, so they had me lay down, and injected me with Lidocaine. 

Will this fix it?

Now, on a normal day Lidocaine isn't that bad... some people say it hurts a bit, but I've never had an issue. This time though? It was like someone was sticking red-hot electrified needles through my skin. It was hellacious! I threw out four or five bellowing "FUCK!!!!!!"s before I even realized I was bellowing! I apologized to everyone in the room for my reaction, but then she stuck me again, and I bellowed some more! I expected her to let it sit for a few minutes to really kick in, but she was squeezing like a teen on prom night as soon as she put the needle down. It only took a few minutes (sorry, they threw the ick away, so no photos for you, you sicko), then I was bandaged up and sent on my way with an appointment to come back once I was fully healed, so they could get the sac out, and an additional appointment for a full-body mole check (but that's for a different post). I was in-and-out in under 30 minutes! Hubby thought we'd be there for hours, having actual surgery, but nah, not this time. At home, I took some Aleve to get ahead of the pain and had a candy bar for a snack... so far my body is happy with that (kinda...). I slept great, and was starving when I woke up the next day, so I think I'm definitely on the mend. 

On Saturday, I did parkrun, got a haircut, made a grocery run, and picked up Chick-fil-A for lunch. I was still tired and somewhat weak from the weirdest Sick Week I've experienced in forever. I've been keeping Steve covered since Thursday, and it feels like it's getting full again. It hurts, just like it did last week. When I took my bandage off to look at it, I could tell, yeah... it's happening again. Should I go back to the derm? Is this some bullshit I have to deal with over and over? I just spent $50 to have this drained, only to have it come back in a few days! Why did I bother! 

By Sunday, it was fuller, and more painful; and maybe I was imagining it, but it felt more painful than last week. On Monday (we're up to April 3rd, if you're keeping track), I felt okay enough to go to work, but it hurt a lot. By Tuesday, I was thinking that I needed to go back to the derm, as it was for sure more painful than before I drained it. No matter how I stand, or sit, or lie down, bra or no bra, the weight of my breasts pull on my chest and cause the cyst to hurt. But even worse is that my chest skin is MAD from all the Band-Aid wearing. I had to actually take it off while I was at work to give it a break. 

When I went to bed, I decided to try a warm compress (that's supposed to help, right?) First I tried my warm-up eye mask that I have for headaches; that was nice for like 10 minutes but then the heat dissipated. So I broke out my Old Lady Heating Pad, and I actually fell asleep on my back with the pad on my chest, with my hand on top to hold it there. It was a fitful sleep, but I was able to stay this way all night long. 

{It's gonna start getting gross from here, folks... Proceed if you can handle it}

The next morning, I woke up and was happy to see that the pad had stayed in place all night. When I pulled it off my chest, though... it was stuck to my body. I cracked open one eyeball and saw that there was some discoloration on the cover of the pad, and damn, it was like Christmas Morning! My cyst had finally come to a head! I was still half-asleep, so my first thought was, okay, if it's leaking, I can put some Neosporin on it but, guys, we were WAY past that stage. Once I got vertical, a gush of blood started drooling its way down my skin... It looked like I'd been shot in the chest. I peed while I held a wad of toilet paper to the open hole, then checked it out in the mirror. 

Okay, so I wasn't expecting Squeeze Time at 8am, but it's Squeeze Time whether I want it to be or not. It hurt! Both because there's a disgusting cyst in there, but also leftover pain from Squeeze Time last week. Thankfully (unfortunately? Ewww...) most of the pus-sy stuff was expelled at the Dermatologist's office (you know, that vanilla pudding-type gunk); I had to deal with a lot of dark maroon red blood, and some cyst particles. After about 10 squeezes, the much more... chunky... stuff started showing up. I tried to pull it out with tweezers, but no luck. I was able to pull a little more out with TP-wrapped fingers. 

But then... oh then... a big hunk emerged, and just enough pressure... and this absolute mass of bloody, chunky funk launched itself across the vanity and squelched into the mirror. It was so chunky and bloody that it began to drool down the mirror like a murder scene. I am who I am, and I pulled out some of the chunks so I could take a picture of them, then continued to squeeze until my chest stopped hemorrhaging. Then I cleaned up the murder scene that was the vanity and mirror. Then I cleaned up ME, who was looking like Carrie White at this point. Finally, I cleaned up the hole, got as much of the leaking taken care of as possible, then put on a big bandage to catch additional leakage. 

Top Row: Pieces I rescued from the mirror (No idea why there's hair on them)
Middle Row: Leftover chunks that came out a few days later
Bottom Row: After popping vs what it looked like 2 days earlier

I climbed back in bed for a bit for my chest skin and muscles to recover, and worked from home the rest of the day. By the end of the day, the swelling had gone down, and the pain receded by about 75%. I changed bandages once, and it was as disgusting as expected. Fresh bandages and Neosporin went on before bed. I was hopeful that I wouldn't have to do this again; it's not the squeezing that hurts, but the filling up part (anyone who's had a huge pimple can totally understand).

For the next few days, it kept leaking but not chunking, and not filling up any more. I used some of the bigger bandages that the Dermatologist gave me, because I could double them up for more coverage. My skin absolutely hated the adhesive, but too bad! By late Friday, I swapped over to "normal size" Nexcare Sensitive bandages. I think at this point, I've turned a corner to recovery. so maybe I can finally get back into the swing of things!!! I've put off gym and running for weeks because of this, and I'm tired of it! By Sunday, I had just the tiniest bit of seepage. Over the next few weeks, the leaking stopped and I eventually could go bandage-free (oh thank God!). I was finally able to get back to the gym by the end of April. 

By mid-May, the cyst was completely deflated and empty, and I was back to having a hard, Peanut M&M-sized bump under my chest, with a healing hole next to it. 

You can see that Steve set up shop NEXT TO the bump

I was beginning to fret about my upcoming procedure to remove the bump (who at some point I renamed to Steve). I wasn't looking forward to the pain from the Lidocaine. I didn't know if I was going to have to pull packing gauze out afterward, and if so, for how long. I didn't know how much pain I'd be in afterward. I was just... in a mood when I woke up on May 11. I had a small bagel for lunch (under duress... I wasn't hungry, but I knew that Hubby would force me to eat if I didn't). I got to the office, and got called back after a few minutes. The Lidocaine was much less painful this time (not shooting into inflamed tissue, I suppose), and I was numb very quickly. Dr. A came in and sliced Steve out of me and had me sewed back up in minutes! They used electrocautery for hemostasis, whatever that means. I got 3 deep stitches, and one surface stitch... And I learned that "one stitch" doesn't mean that you have one line of thread, because I had about 8-10 lines of thread... it looks like a caterpillar on my chest! 

The stitches the day after removal

They bandaged me up and let me have a look at Steve, and yes, I took photos this time. He was bigger than I expected, bigger than the tip of my index finger. I have to keep my chest dry until tomorrow, and then clean it well and slather on some mupirocin for the next two weeks. I'll come back right around Memorial Day to have my stitches removed, and then a few weeks later, I'll return for a full body mole check. On the way home, we got ice cream and a big ol' soda for me at Sonic, and I plan on ordering pizza for dinner. Because I'm a grown ass adult who just had a gross cyst pulled out of her chest! 

The pressure gauze/bandage right after stitches were done

Everybody... Say hi to Steve!

Goodbye, Steve, I won't miss ya!

On May 25th, I had my stitches removed, and I was left with a keloid scar that looks like a funky caterpillar. For about a week, I was just putting on some Jergen's Manuka Honey body lotion that I had lying around; I ended up buying some scar gel that was supposed to be better than Mederma, but it hasn't done shit. And I can't return it to Amazon, so I'm stuck with it. I went back and ordered some Silicone Scar Sheets, which I've been wearing non-stop, and as of July 11, I think I'm seeing some improvement? It's a thick nasty scar, so it's probably going to take a lot of time to break it down, I think. (ETA: I don't remember exactly when, but I stopped wearing the sheets... it seemed like it was making the scar hard, so I stopped for a week. The scar got softer. So I put the sheet back on, and it felt hard again. So screw it... my skin's gonna get whatever the scar ends up doing...)

The last day with stitches

Finally, the caterpillar is gone!

From July until now, everything has been fine. I touch my scar a lot, like a woobie. Steve had been there for a decade, and now he's gone... Maybe I'll call my scar Jefferson, since he replaced Steve. (Yes, that is a "Married... with Children" reference. One Cool Point to you if you got it!)

So, here we are now, a full year later, May 2024, with some After Shots, as well as some side-by-side shots to show how well I've healed. Do I like the scar? Nope, not in the slightest. But it's part of me and it's part of my story. Life would be boring story if we only talked about the good parts!

Photo taken May 1, 2024

Top Row: March 30, 2023 and May 4, 2023
Bottom Row: May 13, 2023 and May 1, 2024