Your appendix is useless. Or is it?
Could your appendix be your inner Yoda?
After a few days to reflect, here are the deeper takeaways I got from my journey through hell on Sunday.
TAKEAWAY #1. THE ONLY WAY PAST IS THROUGH
Pro Tip: Only get appendicitis during normal business hours.
21,600 seconds. That’s how long it took from the morphine wearing off to going under anesthesia. I know because I counted every. single. second.
If you go into the ER early on a Sunday morning, you’ve gotta wait for the on-call surgical team to get in. BUT they can’t give you painkillers before you go under anesthesia, so you don’t get the “good stuff” while you wait.
For me, that meant 6 HOURS of bareback riding the pain bronco.
I tried talking through it and breathing through it and passing out through it. Nothing worked.
Around hour 4, I stopped trying to fight the pain and just accepted it. What followed was what I’d call a painful tranquility. The pain level didn’t change, but it became bearable.
It doesn’t matter if you’re a starving entrepreneur or going through a nasty divorce or “just” riding out appendicitis.
The only way past is through.
TAKEAWAY #2: NO ONE IS GOING TO SAVE YOU
Tuesday morning I was visited by 3 ghosts.
The Ghost of Surgery Past came to check on me. My surgeon asked about nausea or pain. Nope. “Great! We’ll have you out of here in a couple of hours.”
The Ghost of Surgery Present visited me 20 minutes later. The floor internist came in and asked about nausea or pain. Nope. “Great, we’ll have you out of here in a couple hours.”
The Ghost of Surgery Future visited me 20 minutes after that. A different internist. Identical conversation. Identical outcome.
4 hours later the nurse comes in with a new IV. Noticing the confused look in my face she says “Oh, we’ll do one now and then another in 2 hours.”
“Nurse Ifey,” I said, “this has been great and all, but 3 different doctors told me I’d be out of here by now, so let’s cancel the IV’s and follow that course of action instead.”
“Okay, let me go talk to the Case Nurse.”
An hour later, I’m still in hospital jail. I’m dressed, packed and ready to go. I wander out to the nurse’s station and track down the Case Nurse.
In my thickest “Rick Charm”, I clasp my wrists together with invisible handcuffs and say “Nurse Maricol, PLEASE release me! I gotta go.”
All the nurses laughed and 15 minutes later I was heading out the door.
The buck stops with me. We are not victims.
Whether it’s being financially responsible, getting healthy or breaking out of the hospital, it’s up to you.
No one is going to save you.
TAKEAWAY #3: YOUR TEAM MATTERS
Helplessly watching a loved one go through a traumatic medical experience gets easier. I know because my dad spends so much time in the hospital, he gets his mail delivered there.
But I still remember the first time. The first time was like watching a violent car crash. It’s intense and jarring in a way that few things are.
Suffice it to say, my wife doesn’t have the depth of hospital experience I do. So until Sunday, she’d been untested.
Thankfully, she’s a champ and didn’t just maintain her composure, but sprung into action (in spite of her fear), tracking down nurses, demanding updates and never leaving my side.
Whether it’s your employees, your friends or your spouse who you surround yourself with matters. Who you attract and keep in your life are some of the most important decisions you can make.
Don’t take that lightly.
Your team matters.
And to end on a light note, here I am immediately after surgery, still very heavily medicated (clearly), enjoying the first sip of a liquid I was allowed to have in over 10 hours.
