Just rest 'til Monday
Posted by Danjanon on Thursday, June 11, 2009
Under: Prose
Found this story last night while going through a box o' memories that usually stays under my bed. I believe it was done some time in Senior school. It didn't come titled, so I've decided on:
Just rest 'til Monday
I'd never felt this way before and it most definitely wasn't fun. Sitting on the loo, again. NOTHING! What I thought was constipation turned out to be much more serious. When Mum asked me what I wanted for tea, she knew something was wrong. What kind of teenage boy in his right mind answers, "I'm not hungry, I think I'll go to bed" at five o'clock in the afternoon?
Time's kinda choppy there 'cause I'm not sure if Mum let me rest or not, but the next important event was going to the pharmacy. Who basically told us that I should rest and see how I felt after that.
If we had taken her advice, I'd be dead!
On my request Mum took me to the Doctors. After the usual wait I was taken to the usual office and also, like usual, it was a doctor I did not recognise. He looked to be in his forties and he sounded like he was from Russia. His medical certificate confirmed this fact. After a urine sample and an uncomfortable test I'd rather never talk about again he sent me straight to the hospital. "Do not go home, go straight to emergency".
I had no idea what was wrong, but I'm glad we hadn't waited until Monday like the pharmacist said.
The pain in the side of my gut was now excruciating. I felt like someone had sliced and continued to slice into my stomach. They say that the pain from appendicitis is the closest thing a man will get to child birth. If that's really so, you can call me freakin' Mama!
It was - I don't know - about three hours later when the surgeon finally arrived. Being rolled into theatre was the strangest combination of pain and relief I'd ever felt. I was given another form to sign; it was something about the anaesthetic. I didn't, no I couldn't understand the doctor's explanation because of the continuous pain.
I didn't sign, but instead asked the nurse what it was about. Mum looked at me in a way I'd never seen before and pleaded "just sign it Dan... Please". It was fear, my mum was afraid. What was going on? I signed the paper and all the medical team went into action putting a gas mask over my face. The nurse told me to count backwards from one hundred. By the time I had asked, "Why would I want to?" and wondered "am I going to die?" I was out like a light.
Apparently, it was an extremely messy procedure. I wouldn't know because I was sleeping. My appendix had burst not long before I had gone to see the first doctor, who incidentally was kind enough to come see me after the surgery.
I didn't mind recovery for at least three reasons. One, with appendicitis unlike other -itises I could eat whatever I wanted, which was usually better than food at home. Two, it was one of the times the family seemed together again. Mum and Dad didn't fight about divorce settlements and I could choose to see what, or rather whoever, I wished. Not that I had to be selective, Vicki, my pseudo step-mother never came to visit anyway. I'm guessing because of Mum. Lastly, morphine is a whole lot of fun! While lying still in bed, morphine made me feel like the world was rushing towards me. Best drug induced buzz ever. If you ever get the chance to try Morphine without having your appendix explode, go for it. Go break your legs or something.
Just rest 'til Monday
I'd never felt this way before and it most definitely wasn't fun. Sitting on the loo, again. NOTHING! What I thought was constipation turned out to be much more serious. When Mum asked me what I wanted for tea, she knew something was wrong. What kind of teenage boy in his right mind answers, "I'm not hungry, I think I'll go to bed" at five o'clock in the afternoon?
Time's kinda choppy there 'cause I'm not sure if Mum let me rest or not, but the next important event was going to the pharmacy. Who basically told us that I should rest and see how I felt after that.
If we had taken her advice, I'd be dead!
On my request Mum took me to the Doctors. After the usual wait I was taken to the usual office and also, like usual, it was a doctor I did not recognise. He looked to be in his forties and he sounded like he was from Russia. His medical certificate confirmed this fact. After a urine sample and an uncomfortable test I'd rather never talk about again he sent me straight to the hospital. "Do not go home, go straight to emergency".
I had no idea what was wrong, but I'm glad we hadn't waited until Monday like the pharmacist said.
The pain in the side of my gut was now excruciating. I felt like someone had sliced and continued to slice into my stomach. They say that the pain from appendicitis is the closest thing a man will get to child birth. If that's really so, you can call me freakin' Mama!
It was - I don't know - about three hours later when the surgeon finally arrived. Being rolled into theatre was the strangest combination of pain and relief I'd ever felt. I was given another form to sign; it was something about the anaesthetic. I didn't, no I couldn't understand the doctor's explanation because of the continuous pain.
I didn't sign, but instead asked the nurse what it was about. Mum looked at me in a way I'd never seen before and pleaded "just sign it Dan... Please". It was fear, my mum was afraid. What was going on? I signed the paper and all the medical team went into action putting a gas mask over my face. The nurse told me to count backwards from one hundred. By the time I had asked, "Why would I want to?" and wondered "am I going to die?" I was out like a light.
Apparently, it was an extremely messy procedure. I wouldn't know because I was sleeping. My appendix had burst not long before I had gone to see the first doctor, who incidentally was kind enough to come see me after the surgery.
I didn't mind recovery for at least three reasons. One, with appendicitis unlike other -itises I could eat whatever I wanted, which was usually better than food at home. Two, it was one of the times the family seemed together again. Mum and Dad didn't fight about divorce settlements and I could choose to see what, or rather whoever, I wished. Not that I had to be selective, Vicki, my pseudo step-mother never came to visit anyway. I'm guessing because of Mum. Lastly, morphine is a whole lot of fun! While lying still in bed, morphine made me feel like the world was rushing towards me. Best drug induced buzz ever. If you ever get the chance to try Morphine without having your appendix explode, go for it. Go break your legs or something.
In : Prose