Teresa, Ate Sonia and I at Camp John Hay Manor.
Enjoying dinner at one of the finest restaurants in Baguio with Duane and Lois.
The unplanned adventure that came up suddenly...:) (having nothing to do with the food at the Manor, read the next post to understand...)
WARNING: long, detailed...
Sometimes life just stops. And everything that had been planned changes. Appendicitis is one of those sometimes. I had planned on a week-long trip to Baguio with Teresa and our friend Ate Sonia. We were coming up here to participate in a teaching "Counseling" and to be refreshed through relationships with friends.
We had an amazing time. Heard the teaching, and were blessed by it, encouraged by the speaker to step back into the Drop-In Center better equipped to handle the challenges we were facing. And blessed by friends who simply sat and listened to what we're going through and served us coffee.
I had purchased our bus tickets back to Manila for 1115pm on Friday. We would ride the bus overnite, arrive in Manila in the morning and then fly to Butuan, arriving there by Saturday afternoon. Friday evening I began to not feel so wonderful, but we pushed through and were able to attend the Children's Bible Study some of you may remember me talking about. By the end of the evening I was so miserable, we had to leave early. The taxi ride back to the YWAM base was interminable. I was totally unfit for travel. So Teresa and Ate Sonia left for Butuan, as I was curled up in a ball in bed, wondering what in the world was happening to me.
Saturday and Sunday found me still huddled up in bed, staring blankly at the walls, with a strange pain in my abdomen. Monday I dragged myself to see Doctora Faith (from now on Dra Faith), wondering if one of those nasty ovarian cysts had developed again. She ran a bunch of tests, and decided to treat me for a UTI, there was no cyst present. Encouraged, I dutifully took the antibiotics and drank what seemed like gallons of Gatorade, but had no appetite to eat actual food.
Tuesday I forced myself to get out of bed, determined to go to the travel agent to rebook a flight to Butuan. However, I found myself almost in tears in the taxi on the way, and amazed at the UTI pain. I dragged myself around the mall (where the travel agent is) and almost purchased the ticket, but my ATM card wouldn't let me get money. Dra Faith (LOVE her) saw me and greeted me, a look of concern on her face. She asked me how I was, and I said I was FINE, with a big smile on my face. And that's when I started bawling in the mall. (There's a first time for everything and this was just the beginning of firsts that week.) She ordered me not to buy a plane ticket and that I needed to come see her in her office that evening, she was concerned about my appendix. Meekly, I complied.
She wanted to send me to the hospital that nite for observation, but I didn't want to go. For some reason, I was concerned that people would think it was silly if there was really nothing wrong, so I suggested that we wait until the morning, just in case I was going to be amazingly better and the antibiotics for this UTI would have a miraculous effect. With strict instructions to go directly to hospital if anything got worse, I went home. (Poor Dra Faith, she was so concerned and I was so determined not to go to hospital...come on, let's face it...I'd never been in the hospital overnight...and I live in a third world country...and...)
Wednesday afternoon I was in a taxi on my way to Notre Dame Hospital, a private, well run, well equipped hospital staffed by nuns. Dra Faith had wisely emphasized that I would merely be spending a couple of days getting rehydrated, and making sure I was ok before she released me. Around 230 the surgeon came to examine me and immediately announced the he was scheduling me for an appendectomy at 530. (I thought I was just gonna have an I.V.!! Now they're doing this?!?! I did not sign up for SURGERY!!)
A few things about hospitals in the Philippines:
1. Each patient must have their own "watcher". In a regular hospital this person is responsible to pre-purchase all the medications for the patient, and to purchase the patient's food, sometimes outside the hospital where the food is cheaper. (As it turned out, the hospital I was charged the meds to my bill and food was part of the cost of staying there.) This person is also responsible to watch the patient at all times, taking care of what needs to be done for them, even through the nite. Ate Adeline was my watcher. She was amazing. At the end of the whole ordeal, I told her I didn't know if I could have done it without her. Amazing woman. Amazing testimony. Amazing love.
2. There are wards. At first I was put in a 6 bed ward, with curtains separating the spaces. Ate Adeline told me that in many hospitals there aren't curtains and that when her father was dying, he was in a 40 bed ward, where the watchers only had a wooden bench to sit on. People of all ages were crowded into that long hall. Very old, very young. Some very sick, others sitting in their beds, waiting. There were many visitors crowded in, trying to cheer up the patients. Loud. Bright lights.
3. The nurses still wear their cool hats, do charting by hand, in gray metal chart holders. The equipment made my mom smile in wonder, thinking she had gone back to the 50s. :) (Since I've never been in the hospital in the US, I didn't really notice alot of things, but my mom did.)
4. Patients are not allowed to leave the hospital until the bill is fully paid. If you don't have the money, you have to stay until you find it. When you pay, the billing department gives you a little slip that you have to give to the security guard on your way out the door. (Secretly I wonder what would have happened if I had tried to leave without the little paper...)
...back to the story....
So after making a deposit of 1000 pesos (US$25) to reserve the operating room, I was taken to the ward, where people were fascinated to see an Americana wheeled in and placed in a bed alongside them. An hour later they came in to take me for the surgery. They gave me an epidural (I guess that's what it would be called, numbing my lower half by an injection in my spine), followed by a sedative. (Thank the good Lord above for that sedative, I was not so very pleased with the feeling of the epidural.) After the surgery and a few hours in the recovery room (where i was covered up with a thick sheepskin blanket and a warming light was put on me, like a box of newborn chickens), I was taken to a private room (again, praise the LORD!!).
....(if you're getting tired of reading, I'm sorry... I know there are people who will want the details and others who just want the jist of it... Feel free to stop at any point :)....
Tom and SoonIm Hull were there with Adeline to greet me. (I guess I never mentioned that Duane and Lois, my leaders, were about 15 hours of travel away from Baguio, so they weren't able to be there.) For the next 8 hours I wasn't allowed to have a pillow, because of the spinal puncture I had to lay perfectly flat. I was in SO MUCH PAIN, it was virtually impossible to sleep. So I waited and waited for 4am, when I would finally be given a pillow. Hallelujah!! Around 6 the nurse came in and gave some pain medicine and something for nausea.
After a while I was completely anxious. My hands and feet were clammy, I was kicking and squirming under the covers, unable to find a comfortable spot. I was wringing my hands and pulling out the hair on my head. I told Adeline I felt like I was going crazy. (She told me later that she was really scared and didn't know what to do). I was clutching at whoever came near the bed, holding onto them, tugging at their clothes. Scary. Dra Faith came in and I explained what was happening. The nausea medicine should have been given over a period of 20 minutes, and since it had been given in about 5 minutes, Dra Faith said that it would cause the reaction I was having. WHAT A RELIEF!! Since there was now a reason and she told me how long the feeling would last, I was able to deal with the situation more logically. Although I was still having a VERY hard time for several more hours, I knew that it wouldn't be forever.
Unfortunately, what I didn't know was that the pain medicine had been stopped also. So by 2pm I was having another very uncomfortable episode, and I was (quite illogically, though understandably) scared of anything being put into the I.V. Finally they figured out what to give me, it look a while for them to figure it out, and then I agreed to the shot. Oh, I don't know what it was, but I still remember the relief flowing through my veins, calming me. After a while the nurse came in and asked if I was still in pain. My answer? "Yes, but I don't care anymore." I felt GOOOOOD.
A friend that was visiting reminded me that it would be better the next day. And it was. Friday they said I could go home. But I chose to wait until Saturday because I knew I would never make it up the three flights of stairs to the room I was supposed to be staying in at the YWAM base. Duane and Lois arrived back in town Friday nite and came to see me at the hospital. It was so good to see them. Lois agreed to make me her vegetable soup, which was the only thing that sounded good to me. (I hadn't eaten hardly anything since Tuesday.)
Saturday another friend came and drove me home in his car. Such a relief to not have to come in a taxi, not knowing what kind of driver or car we'd get. (At this point I'll just say that the pain medication they were giving me was equal to ibuprofen, but is normally prescribed in the states for arthritis....and they had given me the minimum dose. Not so very effective.) So the ride home was a challenge. But I thought I was holding up ok. Until we got out of the taxi and were walking towards the base. My chin started shaking and it was good Duane was standing there, cause I would have fallen over if he hadn't been. After crying on his shoulder for a while, we kept walking and we somehow made it up the stairs. I think alot of it had to do with the grace of God and the two strong men who almost carried me up the stairs.
So, that's the long story of my unplanned adventure...there was a big blessing that came out of it and that is that my mom got to come stay for 2 weeks, which was a huge blessing and needs to go into another post, so that you can get a break from reading the drama in my life. :)
Thanks again for your prayer during that time, and that I know are continuing even now. You are a blessing to me.
thanks to everyone who was praying during my adventure in the hospital...and for those who didn't know, i had an emergency appendectomy last wednesday nite...quite an adventure...not one i would recommend....more on that when i have more energy.:) love you guys.
ps. my last entry was an oops. i was teaching someone how easy it is to do a blog....and forgot to delete...:)
