I apologize for not posting last Monday, but it was kinda understandable.
Why is it understandable? Let me tell you a story.
Last June, I went to the doctor exactly two weeks before I was supposed to go to Fiji and learned that I had a semi serious (mostly just painful) medical condition. I’m not going to tell you what it is, because of the nature of it. Let’s just say that it is something that needs to heal over time and is quite painful.
Anyway, the doctor said that if I took my antibiotics and had it treated, I should be able to go to Fiji, but it would probably come back. He also mentioned that if it came back, I would very likely need surgery.
Over the next two weeks, I used all my willpower and received lots of prayers, and two days before the trip, I got the all clear to go. When I came back, everything seemed fine.
Fast forward to late January sometime. 25th, I think. A Wednesday. I realized that it had come back, so I went to the doctor the next day. He put me back on antibiotics, sent a referral to the hospital for surgery (which they never responded to), and started treating it again. After a few days, one of the nurses said that it was healing fine, and as long as I finished my antibiotics, I wouldn’t have to go back.
She was wrong.
So back we were on the next Thursday, a week after I first went to the doctor. On Friday, I was told that if there were any issues over the long weekend (Monday was a public holiday), I should go to the local after hours doctors thing.
On Friday night, there was an issue.
So bright and early Saturday morning, I went to the doctor, optimistically thinking that I’d be home in time to eat a more substantial breakfast than a muesli bar.
Nope. The doctor sent me straight to the emergency room with a referral for surgery that day.
If you’ve never had surgery before, there is one important thing to be grateful for. You can’t eat less than six hours before surgery. I’d already eaten that morning (but just a muesli bar!) so we had to wait until at least 2pm.
So we waited.
Thing is, there’s only one operating theatre on weekends. And while mine was painful and important, it was not serious or urgent. So I kept getting bumped down the list. There was an accident, then an emergency cesarean, and goodness knows what else. Finally, at 10pm (remember that all I’d eaten was a muesli bar 14 hours earlier), they admitted that I wouldn’t be getting surgery that day. So they gave me dinner and sent me off to bed (actually I’d been in the hospital bed all afternoon, but whatever).
Then Sunday roles around. The night before, they’d said that I would be first in the morning, so no breakfast. Then at 8, they told me it would be at 9:30. At 9:30, they said it would be at 2:30 (FIVE HOURS. YOU CAN’T EAT IF IT’S LESS THAN SIX). Then at 2:30, I was told 3:30. At around 4, I was called. I sat in the pre-op room, signed all the paperwork, and was about to go in, when there was another emergency cesarean.
So I waited for another two hours, and finally got in at 6pm on Sunday. And then I had to spend a second night in hospital, because they had to check my blood pressure and all that every few hours.
So that’s why I didn’t post on Monday. I was still kinda dead from having surgery the night before, and I didn’t get home until lunchtime on Monday.
My ninth surgery. Done.
And you know what the best part is? This doesn’t even fully fix the problem. This just helps with the one I have at the moment. I’m probably going to have another surgery once I’m fully better to try and fix it completely.
But I’m grateful that the health care system in New Zealand is good enough that I can be admitted to hospital for surgery and not have to worry about getting diseases from other patients, or have to worry about how on earth I’m going to pay for it all. I’m grateful that we have the equipment here, and that it’s all relatively safe. Even if the situation was way less than ideal, I’m still grateful.
So that’s what’s been going on with me lately. Anyone else have an exciting story to share?