After I tell you the events of my weekend I promise to allow time for you to tell me all about yours...I promise...but,
Over this past weekend, as my StuAmb team and I were preparing for another intense round of Quest Leadership Weekend, ORU's newest version of College Weekend, I began to feel some slight stomach pains. It wasn't anything out of the ordinary, as I have struggled with stomach pain for as long as I can remember. Gut health has never actually been a care of mine, but I have a feeling after this past weekend that is going to change.
The pain was pretty spread out and achy, instead of in one place and very sharp. Something like acid reflux came to mind first, but my usual methods of getting rid of it didn't work. I remember eating dinner at around 8 pm and it being downhill from there. We were working until about 9 pm which helped take my mind off the pain until I got back into my room. After work I drove to the store, hoping to grab some pain meds, and came out with two new pairs of shoes....cause...Target.
After coming back from the store I took several tums and a Midol, hoping all that would help my stomach pain. And nothing.
I layed in bed, kind of totally exhausted, at around 11:30 pm and just prayed. Short, simple and to the point: "God, would you lay your hand on this tummy and take the pain away, so I can sleep and lead high school seniors into your presence starting at 6:30 am tomorrow morning. Thank you, God, you are so good. Amen."
1:30 am I woke up in the same amount of pain as before, but stumped on how to get rid of it. I was nauseous and felt very sick. So my feet got me up and my hands grabbed my car keys. I called campus security to give me a ride up to the very back of upper lot where my car was. In a quick, 2 second decision I knew I was going to the E.R and someone more educated than I was was going to help me out.
To say campus security was a little shocked would be an understatement. Despite their initial, "you want us to what? Because why?" questions, they actually moved very quickly and I applaud them for just helping me out.
When I got to the little emergency room down the street, the little teenager sitting at the front desk slid a stack of paper toward me so long I probably would have died before I got help. The pain had gotten a little worse and I knew for a fact I was the only person in that E.R. so I kindly slid it back her way and said, "I am experiencing shortness of breath, does that make a difference?" Bless her heart she took the paperback and only asked for my insurance card and I.D.
After that, and for about the next 6 hours, I was treated and taken care of by Michael and Meghan, two nurses I probs won't ever see again. They were very nice, to the point (which I luuuv) and educated! They took all my vitals and started drawing blood. We talked through the pain about my family history and what I was studying at ORU, and that helped the time go by. I turned on worship music basically right as I walked through the door and none of them minded. At around 3:30 they had an on-call ultrasound master walk through my door with the contraption, and 45 minutes later I was being told that I had huge gallstones, stuck very tightly in my gallbladder, and it needs to come out. They gave me the option of scheduling an appointment for Monday, but I thought that it would only be retarded of me to actually accept a whole weekend of pain when I could just get it done today.
The hospital owned by ORU (cause God) was called and I was directed there at around 8am for a check-in and pre-op. Between 6:00am and 8:00am I was able to sleep on a whole lot of morphine, which took the pain away for the rest of the day.
Sometime around 8, I was woken up to head over to the other hospital, and it was the first time I stopped to think about asking someone from the school to join me. I'm independent and didn't really care about asking someone else to be there so early in the morning, but I was basically walking into my own surgery, and normal people have loved ones in the waiting room, right?
The text I sent into a group chat called "Girl Gang" read: "Hey Ladies!! Hey is anyone available to come pick me up from the ER down the road from the school? I've been here since last night but I have an appointment at cityplex at 8:30am."
I REALIZE NOW that I did not give one single person enough information to know what was actually going on, so I apologize to all the hearts that stopped for that one second while reading that.
I didn't want to wait for anyone to come, cause, Miss Independent, so I took an uber from one hospital to the other.
I had my initial appointment with the chief of General at the surgical unit and he explained, again, that my gallbladder is very infected and it needs to come out. We scheduled the surgery for later that day and that was that. Nothing to it.
After my appointment, I came out to find the girlfriend of all girlfriends coming to my rescue. Once she realized I was in the hospital she canceled her classes and came running like the queen that she is. My chaplain came too and took over the role of plus one for the next 24 hours, a true woman of God. They both stayed with me for the rest of the day, mostly just waiting for surgery.
Surgery was not until 3:00 pm, so we did a lot of waiting and resting. The morphine was still dripping through me but I still felt very nauseous. At 1:00 pm I was taken to the back, gowned and sat waiting to go into surgery. we just hung out and talked it up.
Right before surgery, the girls prayed for me, and it wasn't the first time during the day that they had done so. I also had one or two mini breakdowns due to exhaustion. I never felt overwhelmed. In fact, it was all a little underwhelming, but I had not slept more than about 4 hours in 2 days and was just so tired.
The ride to surgery was where it all came crashing down though. I just slowly started crying, and vaguely remember choking on my sobs in the operating room before the medicine took over. The nurse leaned over me and asked me if I was okay, and I just remember saying how tired I was, which I will say is the story of my season right now. She laughed a little and said I was getting to sleep, and next thing I know I was being rudely awakened in recovery.
Coming out of the anesthesia was the hardest part. It was a lot of work and I was not happy about it. My chaplain says that I kept telling the nurse over and over that I was so tired and my neck was hurting. I learned later that they pumped my torso full of air so they could get under my stomach to get my gallbladder out, and it would take a while for the gas to dissipate. Anytime I laid down I could feel it in my stomach, but anytime I sat or stood up I could feel it in my right shoulder. Safe to say it friggen hurt.
For about 3 hours I sat in recovery, sleeping the anesthesia off and getting ready to leave. The surgery went very well and there weren't any complications so I didn't need to spend the night at the hospital. Eventually, I got dressed and moved to a wheelchair. Things were pretty smooth sailing from there. I spent the night at my chaplain's house and was spoon-fed me soup. I was given the best gift ever of BlueBell Banana popsicles, which totally have healing powers.
Now I am 5 days post-op, completely off the pain meds (which were not very helpful) not feeling any pain and pretty mobile. I can only do a little bit of activity each day before I get pretty tired, so I am working on building my energy level and resting all at the same time. But I am grateful that the operation was quick and the doctors worked to get me in the same day.
I am also very grateful to the girls who stopped by during surgery and afterward, taking care of me and being there for me. A year ago I know for a fact I would have never let people help me as much as they did this go around, and coming to that revelation really means something to me. I am learning and growing and maturing and the women that I am surrounding myself with are helping in that process.
I am also VERY grateful that my parents work as hard as they do for really good insurance so that I feel confident enough to simply drive myself to the hospital and pop right into surgery care-free.
Mostly though I am grateful to everyone who prayed for me during and after surgery. If there is anything I needed from people it was prayer. The popsicles and the people by my side were aaaaaawesome, but I would much rather be covered in prayer. In moments like these, I have to constantly remind myself I can't be in control, but I can trust in The Lord and He can handle it all.
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