My apologies for the delay in posting. In late October, my appendix burst. Fortunately, my table of contents is still intact, but the treatment was complicated and, at times, even controversial.
When the problem first arose, I was vomitting uncontrollably and shaking and shivering. My entire body was near collapse. My wife and I (she’s British, so I can always count on her in a crisis), went to the hospital. Nobody likes going to the hospital, but that’s where you go when your sick.
The doctors told me that my appendix, which apparently contained a lot of nasty crap, had burst and they would have to remove it. Only two weeks earlier, I was in the hospital to have a mass removed. The doctors feared it might be malignant, but luckily we caught it in time. But I was worried about recovering from two surgeries so close to each other. Nonetheless, I went ahead and did the right thing.
After the appendix surgery, all manner of vile fluids started collecting in my abdomen. Because I was in the hospital, they were able to manage it so that only my abdomin was affected. The rest of me was okay, no vomitting, no fever or cold sweats.
The vile fluids had always been there, though more had joined from other parts of me, but the appendix rupturing had released them and they now had free reign over the region. One doctor, my lead physician, first suggested an aggressive, triple-threat regimen, with intravenous antibiotics, a steady diet of vitamins and minerals and plenty of fresh air.
Another doctor, who had hoped I would choose him as my lead physician, said that we should just leave things as they are, and let nature take its course. This second doctor also wanted me to focus on the prior problem and try to find the individual cell that had caused it. Of course, that problem had been neutralized. It was the bile and waste running free that was my immediate concern.
The problem was, the antiboitics were not strong enough. My lead physician acknowledged that he was using less than the historically recommended dosage, but had he used more, my health might be put at risk and the medicines had been transformed in recent years. We decided to keep trying with the lower dosage.
Well, it became obvious that I needed stronger medicine. My lead physician consulted with the second doctor who originally said we needed more antibiotics. Now that doctor said we should stop treating me all together and that adding more will just waste the antibiotics. Then he said I never should have come to the hospital in the first place, though I’m not sure how I could’ve avoided it–my appendix having burst on me. Finally, he called the antibiotics “stupid.”
Well, to make a long story short, I decided to stick with the first doctor, even if he is a bit unethical at times, and sometimes he forgets why he went to medical school in the first place. In the end, it was a long road, but I made it home okay. The nice thing about having your appendix burst on you is that, if you fix it right, you don’t have to worry about it ever again.
Al Leggory assisted in the draft of this post.
In all seriousness, I owe my life to the folks at Greenwhich Hospital. Thank you.