I had my appendix taken out Wednesday night. It was a big tadoo[probably not a word]: WebMD diagnosis, 8 hours in the emergency room, surgery, overnight in a hospital, all that jazz. It sucked and was scary, and I cried like a freak for a chunk of it. Many of you may know that I have a needle phobia. A phobia. Not like, oh, I'm afraid of needles. Just don't look, the nurses say. To that I say: SUCK IT. Have you moved to Australia after college with your only contact being a friend of an acquaintance, with nowhere to officially go and nothing official to do? Have you slept on people's couches all summer in New York City so you could not get paid as an intern on a TV show? Have you spoken in front of 500 high school students without hesitation? Have you written a novel about your very personal experiences with depression? I THINK NOT. [The you to which I referred wasn't aimed at you, my blog readers, but the yous of the nasty nurses. And I don't care what people say: there are lots of nasty nurses.] I am still a Gryffindor. I get to have one phobia, and that is it. Anywho, that made the experience tripley unpleasant for how it could have been if I did not have that phobia.
While I'm bitching about hospital staff, I would also like to say to the woman who WOKE ME UP (Why would she wake me up? I just had surgery. Shouldn't I be getting my rest? Plus, everyone was all "You'll sleep because of the anesthesia." Nope. I was up every hour starting at 2:30 a.m., calling a nurse to help me pee. God I hate hospitals.) to teach me how to use a breathing apparatus so I don't get pneumonia. I must have had such an awful look on my face. I hate this woman. Any good teacher, or any human being should know that you don't try to teach someone anything remotely important a) the moment you wake them up b) at an ungodly hour c) without writing it down. That still super pisses me off.
So now I'm home, all slow, but not in too much pain anymore. Although I did have to have my antibiotics switched because I was insanely nauseous twenty-four hours a day. Which I told them would happen. Did they listen? Why don't people listen? Why do they think I'm some alarmist freak? I knew I couldn't sleep, and I didn't. I knew I'd get nauseous, and I did. I knew my body well enough to know that I needed to go the hospital, even with my phobia, SO WELL that my appendix didn't even have time to rupture (which can happen within 36 hours). All in all, I rate my appendix experience a B-. The surgeon was excellent, and I think I am on the road to recovery, so I certainly can't complain about that. But many of the aspects of the hospital, particularly the lame nursing staff (the ones during my birth experience, at a different hospital, were far superior), left much to be desired.