Under the Knife

As explained here, my first tenure at Burger King ended abruptly with an illness. I went home sick and tried to go to bed. My lower abdomen hurt so bad though. My dad insisted I go to the emergency room at Northeast Texas Medical Center. It was a long delay. There was no doctor on site. I had to wait on the on call physician to show up. The doctor asked some questions and performed no tests. He diagnosed me with gastroenteritis. I was given some pain meds and sent home.

A few days passed and I didn't get any better. I actually hurt worse despite the meds. I saw my family doctor, Dr. Schreiber. He had me lay down and he performed some voodoo or something. He literally punched the bottom of my right foot to gauge my reaction. I yelped. He decided that I had appendicitis and sent me to Texoma Medical Center in Denison to undergo an emergency appendectomy.

My surgery was successful. I guess they measure success by the fact that I lived and the appendix was removed. My surgeon, Dr. Dickson, told me it was bad. I had perforated appendicitis. It had probably burst a few days ago. Had I just continued laying down at home popping pills I would have died. I remained in the hospital about five days instead of the usual two days. I had my parents buy me a new CD by Eric Clapton called Pilgrim. The album was unremarkable except I fell in love with the track “My Father's Eyes.”

It entertained me that lonely week in the hospital. Fortunately my surgery was right before winter break. I only missed a week of school and had another two weeks before the spring semester started up.

My incision was taped shut. There was a rubber drain that was safety pinned in there. It looked real fucked up. But something was....off.

This is not a pic of me, but it shows exactly what I had (minus the staples). This photo courtesy of redditer dangiee.

 A few days after being sent home, I had to go back to Denison for a follow up with Dr. Dickson. My incision was warm, inflamed, and had a small smelly oozing that dried into a dark canary crust. My mom drove me and my uncle Billie tagged along. Dr. Dickson took a look. He had me lay down and removed the tape. Uncle Billie nearly passed out. My mom said, “Oh my God!” I felt warmth creep across my stomach as the good doctor grabbed a pink emesis basin to catch whatever was escaping my belly. There was serious drainage going on. And it smelled pretty bad. Now Dr. Dickson decided not to tape it back up. I don't remember if he kept the rubber drain (penrose drain) there for now, or had it removed a little while later. The theory was that after all the infected fluid drained out of there, my wound would heal shut. I just had to dress it a few times a day.

I had a nurse visit me at home, and later at school to help with changing my dressing. This consisted of removing the tape and outer gauze. Removing the gauze that was stuffed inside my 5 inch long incision. This was usually pretty bloody or yellow. Next we poured a hydrogen peroxide solution in there, followed by saline solution. Now we stuff it with gauze again and cover it up. My mom and I decided eventually that we didn't need a nurse and could do this ourselves. I was actually quite good at changing out my own dressing. I'm pretty awesome. It hurt but, you know, man's game. The drainage never got any better and actually my dressing would leak. It eventually came down to this: I taped a maxi pad on my stomach to help absorb the mess coming out my belly. It still leaked.  It was not dignified. 

We saw Dr. Dickson again and tests were done. I drank a couple God awful concoctions. Barium sulfate and another thing with bromine in it. Like pop rocks and something worse than Ensure or Boost. I got x-rays done a little while later and I saw something truly disturbing. The liquid I drank was clearly visible in my x-ray. It wasn't in my stomach. It took a detour. There was a tunnel from my intestine to my appendectomy incision. This meant I had a hole in my intestines. This is called a fistula. Changing out my dressing confirmed that the white fluid was present in my hole.

I was shitting out my stomach. That stinky stuff leaking from my belly was shit. This is so messed up. The doctor also diagnosed me with having Crohn's Disease, saying it caused my fistula to develop. Surgery would be needed to remove part of my colon. I needed a bowel recession.

I asked questions about recovery time? “Will this fix my hole? Will I have to get a catheter?” The answers were simple. A few weeks, yes and no.

I would miss serious school time again. This was annoying. My first surgery actually contributed to me getting my first and only failing grade for a six week period. I got a 69.45 in chemistry. I know the decimal points because I knew I was borderline and asked Mr. Vaught to show me my average. So so close to being able to round up...but not close enough. I told my band director Mr. Ashcraft that I would be out a few more weeks, fortunately I could schedule the surgery for right before Spring Break. This would limit my time off (and prevent me from repeating my junior year due to absences). He said to me, “Can't this wait until Summer?” He sounded annoyed, I was putting him out. My health crisis was a burden on him. I told him, “No, you don't understand the crap I am going through.”

By now I'm a pro at surgery. Another positive? This wasn't emergency surgery. They had plenty of time to prepare and assemble a whip-smart team of bad-asses. This would be a breeze. Just count backward from 100. “100...99...98..97....ugh...what is going on? My stomach hurts so bad.” And I'll be damned. Dr. Dickson is a fucking liar. Sticking out of my...sticking out of me was an ungodly huge rubber tube. So thick and menacing. When asked about this bullshit Dickson told me, “If I told the truth, you would not have come in for surgery.” Damn right I wouldn't have.

That night they made me stand up and weigh myself. What the hell kind of torture are these people into? What's the point of weighing me so soon post-op? I had a five-inch open horizontal incision from my appendectomy (admittingly, this did not contribute to my pain) as well as my six-inch vertical incision in the middle of my stomach. Did I cry? Hell yes I cried. I had to have two technicians help me up and keep me upright. Even the morphine couldn't block this bullshit.

Two weeks I spent in that hospital bed. It gets so lonely in a hospital. And so hungry. I could not eat anything at all for two weeks. After a few days you aren't hungry anymore. Just tired. Fed through an IV drip. I told my parents I wanted two things. The first was the new Tom Petty CD called Echos. And I loved the song called “Room at the Top”. Tom Petty has cheesy songs and genuinely good songs. This was definitely in the latter camp. 

I got a room at the top of the world tonight
I can see everything tonight
I got a room where everyone
Can have a drink and forget those things
That went wrong in their life
I got a room at the top of the world tonight
I got a room at the top of the world tonight
I got a room at the top of the world tonight
And I ain't comin' down, I ain't comin' down
I got someone who loves me tonight
I got over a thousand dollars in the bank
And I'm all right
Look deep in the eyes of love
Look deep in the eyes of love
And find out what you were looking for
I got a room at the top of the world tonight
I got a room at the top of the world tonight
I got a room at the top of the world tonight
And I ain't comin' down, no I ain't comin' down
I wish I could feel you tonight, little one
You're so far away
I want to reach out and touch your heart
Yeah like they do in those things on TV, I love you
Please love me, I'm not so bad
And I love you so
I got a room at the top of the world tonight
I got a room at the top of the world tonight
I got a room at the top of the world tonight
And I ain't comin' down, no I ain't comin' down
I ain't comin' down
Written by Tom Petty • Copyright © Warner/Chappell Music, Inc

The hospital had Comedy Central available on TV. I would watch South Park and would literally laugh until I cried. Laughing caused sharp sharp pain in my stomach. I should have turned it off or changed the channel but that show was so funny to me at the time, I couldn't help it so I laughed and cried simultaneously.

The second item I requested my parents get me was an extra-long chilli cheese coney from Sonic Drive-In. At this point it was no longer my dream to work there with Bryce after high school, but I'll be damned if their chilli dogs weren't good.

My bowel recession incision was stapled shut. There were no leaks or drainage. My original incision eventually healed, but this took many months. Care for it was no longer so involved as it began it's process of restoration.

I ended up losing 60 pounds between December 1998 and April 1999. I would have failed my Junior year due to absences had my surgeries not taken place right before winter break and spring break, respectively. None of my clothes fit me anymore. I went from a little overweight to scary thin. 180 pounds to 120 for a 6'2” specimen such as myself. It took a couple years but I eventually gained my weight back. A few more years and I was fat again. There were rumors that I almost died. These seemingly were confirmed upon my return when I was almost a skeleton. People worried that I would never play trumpet again. They had no idea who I was. This was never a concern for me. In fact, I actually quit the band at the end of that school year. Two chapters ended in my life. The nightmare I went through during that five month period, and my six year career as an arrogant trumpet player. That summer I would go to Germany and next school year I would be a senior and it was almost like a fresh start.

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High School yearbook pics or me from 1997 and 1999. Considerable weight loss is easily noticeable.

If I had to pic a single song to be the soundtrack to this post it would be...