During the last week of April 2014, I suffered excruciating pain in my lower abdomen for at least a total of 3 days, before I finally decided to go to my medical doctor for a checkup.
My medical doctor suspected it was a case of gallstones, and I was immediately sent to do an ultrasound at the hospital.
That same morning, the ultrasound not only confirmed the gallstones, but my gallbladder wall was extremely inflamed. I was told that I would have to go through surgery that same day.
So there I was, from going to the doctor for a checkup to registering myself for admission in the hospital. All I could think about was “How do I tell my husband without panicking? Who will pick up my kids from school?”
First thing I did, while in line for admission, was call my husband, and try to break the news to him as calm as possible.
“A hospital bed is a parked taxi with the meter running.” – Groucho Marx
My husband arranged to pick up the kids from school. And soon after, they stopped by the hospital, with some clothing and toiletries for my stay the next couple of days.
The kids naturally asked a lot of questions as to why I had to stay in the hospital, what would happen to me, whether I would be OK.
Once they left, I layed there in the hospital bed, and it all started to sink in. I was really about to go through surgery.
To make a long story short; I stayed in the hospital for a total of 5 days.
The first 2 days I was on antibiotics through IV, to try to lower the inflammation of the gallbladder. The 3rd day, I had a difficult but successful laparoscopic surgery to remove my gallbladder and stones. And two days after the surgery, I finally got to go home to my husband and kids.
The hardest thing of being hospitalized for me was not the tension of the pending surgery, but the faces of my kids getting sad everytime they had to leave the hospital without their mommy.
Here is a short poem I wrote in the hospital:
What is this pain I feel, why is it here?
Not sure what to do, why it appeared
This unbearable pain, I can no longer endure
This hideous pain, I hate it more and more
From doctor to hospital, it seems so unreal
I’m hooked to the IV, pain I no longer feel
I look at my stitches, my body is still sore
Now an organ less, no more pain like before
If you were ever hospitalized, for whatever reason, what was the hardest thing for you about that experience?