Here's what had happened: Friday, I thought I had gas. Saturday, I went to a football game, had a fish plate, attended an after party, party hopped with my sorors, and went to dinner with a friend... with gas and a small pain in my side. Sunday, I woke up with a sharper pain and realized my high pain tolerance may have caused me to miss an important message my body was giving me. I posted about it on FB because that's just who I am as a person. Then, I commenced to tidying up my house and deciding my next course of action. The pain got my attention and my BFF came to my rescue. He took me to urgent care and they sent me to the emergency room after finding an issue with my bloodwork. I had only ONE symptom of appendicitis, so I wasn't certain what was causing the white blood count issue. After hours in the emergency waiting room, I finally get sent to the back. The emergency nurse was soooooooo annoying. She told me I should have come to the ER instead of going to urgent care. First of all, I thought it was bad gas, lady! I just turned my head and closed my eyes because I felt that ringing in my ears that I get when I'm ready to blackout and curse someone out. My BFF came to the rescue (again) and gave her a half-hearted, "Ok, thanks." Then, as she is jamming a needle into my tiny veins for a 3rd time she sees me flinching and tearing up and asks me "What's wrong, you don't like IVs?" Y'ALL! I wanted to say, "Of course I do! Who doesn't!?!?" Instead, I closed my eyes and looked away, again. Who asks something like that? I know I said I have a high tolerance for pain, but something about the smooth insides of my precious forearms and my delicate, little veins meeting a long sharp needle that hurts more than almost anything. Mind you, this was the third try.
So long story short, I go to get the CT scan and it's appendicitis! I have surgery at 11 PM on Sunday and don't see my house again until 11 days later. In spite of bruising, infiltrated IVs causing me Popeye arm, and bad reactions to pain medications, I had an overall good experience in the hospital. My nurses and doc outside of the Emergency department were great. My people showed up for me in the best of ways. I got through it and 2 weeks later, I'm back at work a little sore, but much better.
The healing process was troubling because I do not like to ask for help. But what I learned is that when you are hurting and you let the right people know, they will show up for you in the ways you request. They asked me what I needed, I stated it and my friends provided. Some going above and beyond what I even asked of them.
The lesson here is this: My body was telling me I was hurting, I ignored it until it was undeniable because I ain't no sucka, I'm tough, I'm resilient, I'm a soldier, I'm stubborn! This led to unexpected extraction of something that was of no use to me, but causing me pain nonetheless. In the process of healing from this, my friends reached out and I told them what I needed. They provided in the form of gifts, food, necessities and sometimes just company. I made my needs known, I got more than I even thought I needed and it made the healing much easier. I was forced to chill out and be outside of my comfort zone. Days later, I'm back to my routine still a little sore but definitely no longer in pain.
So ask yourself: What is my body telling me? What do I need to have examined and extracted? Who can I call on to help me heal? Am I willing to rest and heal as long as it takes?
Take care of yourself, stay in tune, call on your people, take your time healing!
Words from my problematic boo, John Mayer.
