Tony is sleeping the sleep of the heavily medicated right now. He is a bit lighter than he was yesterday, but I don't recommend his weight-loss plan. You know, that plan where they remove organs.
Tony had been feeling ill for a couple of days, but yesterday he complained to me that he felt like someone had kicked him in the stomach. He swore it wasn't his appendix (this is where the universe laughed heartily) because the pain wasn't localized to the right lower abdomen. I sent him to bed with some Gatorade and orders to rest and drink. He rested, but he didn't drink. By 6 pm, he was vomiting with force (or with feeeeeling, if you will). By 8 pm, he said it felt like he had been repeatedly kicked in the gut (who was beating him in his sleep? Who?). Charles went down to bed, I called Leland, and we headed to the ER. They put an IV in because he was severely dehydrated, and sent blood off for labs around 10:45 pm. For those keeping track at home, that's my BED TIME. The doctor scared me half to death when he insisted to me that it wasn't appendicitis (cue universe laughing, again) and that I was, instead, facing a rampant, vicious virus that was sure to bring our whole family down, just you wait mere mortal.
By 11 pm, even with some powerful anti-nausea medication in his IV (on top of almost a liter and half of fluid, at this point), Tony was horking again, and writhing with pain. This time, someone had kicked him in his lower back when I wasn't looking. What are these, evil gnomes attacking when my back is turned?! The bastards! Labs hadn't come back by midnight (busy night in the ER), so I asked the nurse for a ballpark time of when we would be sent home. She couldn't reasonably give me one, so I left my husband to sleep (at this point, he had some pain killers and a bigger dose of anti-nausea medication) with the promise that I would wake the baby and we would come get him as soon as he was discharged.
Charles woke at 5 am to feed, and still no word from Tony. Finally, he called at about 6:45. The official diagnosis, after an MRI and some painful (so I hear) belly-probing? That's right, appendicitis.
He had laproscopic surgery at about 11 am today, and is now on the road to recovery. When he finally woke from the anaesthesia (he's a lightweight), he told me he felt like a million bucks. I guess any thing's better than an inflated appendix. He'll be going home tomorrow. In the meantime, I'll be child-wrangling solo, so don't expect much in terms of updates. Instead, give us a call tomorrow, anytime. He'll probably be bored before too long :-)