Monday, November 13, 2006

How I'm Feeling

Good God. The past two days have been pure torture for this writer. It all began yesterday morning (Sunday), when I awoke with a headache and a very mild stomach issue. Nothing to be too concerned about, as I had been out the night before and dragged myself in at around 2:00 am. The headache, I attributed to the whiskey and beer from the gathering at Comedy City. The stomach ache? Nothing out of the ordinary, as this happens from time to time. I had no appetite and, at about noon, force fed myself a peanutbutter sandwich, which I was unable to finish. However, as the day progressed, my stomach began to feel worse. It wasn't a constant feeling, but rather a very acute pain that would come in ten second waves about every fifteen minutes. As nighttime grew closer, the pain began to get more severe and more frequent. Lisa encouraged me to drink Sprite like a madman just in case it was gas. I was feeling a little better when I checked out at 9:00. I went to sleep, praying that it wasn't Appendicitis.

At around midnight, I began to be bothered by the pains again. I wasn't sure if it had actually gotten worse or if it was part of the discomfort and inconvenience of being awakened. Finally, at about 2:00, I decided that I couldn't take it anymore. I went into the bathroom, hoping to get the problem resolved. At one point, as I sat perched upon the porcelain stool, the pain came in a series of no less than four waves. The next thing I knew, I was laying on the floor of the bathroom moaning. I believe I had blacked out at some point from the agony, because the first thing I heard upon waking up was the sound of the faucet running. I had obviously gotten up to wash my hands, but I have no recollection of it. At this point, the pain was getting worse and the waves were getting longer. As I lay there on my back on that floor in the dark, I felt as if I was being stabbed in the stomach repeatedly. I was afraid to move because of the tenderness. For the first time since this began, I was actually in a deep sweat and, as Lisa mentioned, mumbling incoherently. The cold bathroom tile felt good on my bare back.

My salvation came in the form of Lisa, who appeared above me and insisted we get to the emergency room at once. We bundled up Audrey and headed out into the cold early morning. Upon arriving at the hospital, I was immediately taken to a room and treated. My blood was drawn and, in due time, we were told that an infected appendix had been ruled out. I was given some painkiller for the time being. Before it kicked in, however, my body suffered several more painful blows.

Finally, the doctor came back and told me he could find nothing to explain the pain, but there's a chance it could be a stomach virus. He wrote me two prescriptions--one for a painkiller and one to control the abdominal spasms --and set me loose. Before we left, he encouraged me to call my doctor if I wasn't feeling any better by nightfall. We arrived home at 5:00. Lisa and Audrey both went back to bed and I laid on the couch watching reruns of Coach on USA ("characters welcome," they say), waiting for the Stomach Demon to return.

It's 8:00 pm as I sit and write this. The pain hasn't completely disappeared, but it's been reduced to a very mild discomfort. I regained my appetite too, which I'm happy about. I'm not completely out of the woods yet, but I think I'm going to live for a little while longer.

Stories like this are the very reason blogs were invented.


Anonymous 'sawblade said...

Did you by chance go to the Shanty the other night and eat off a 3 day old, sun-dried, roasted whole hog?

14 November, 2006  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

Good Lord, Teel! That sounds awful!
Hope it's clearing up. I, too, was a little damaged the morning after. I guess improv people generally drink harder than theater critics/English teachers, which makes perfect sense to me, as Improv Person is probably the only profession people respect even less than mine . . .

But I kid. It was great to see you, and I'd love to do it again sometime. Leslie's demanding a '93 Ledger reunion -- maybe we'll be Sports Smacked! -- and I'd certainly be up for a less crowded get-together, myself, so we could catch up without me constantly starting senseless arguments about what I kept calling "the ethos of improv." It's amazing what I turn into in a crowd . . .
ANYWAY. Great to see you. And to meet Pete et. al. Seriously good folks, those Duck people. I loved seeing them in the afterglow of a fantastic show.
Let's do it again.
And get better! You have to think of the children, Teel! The children!


14 November, 2006  
Anonymous Anonymous said...


This reminds me of a horrible chest pain I had right after we moved to Tennessee. It was much as you describe this, but ... well, in the chest. And it was at night. And I'm pretty sure I blacked out too, like you. I could hardly breathe, and it felt like someone standing on my chest, dropping a knife into my side occasionally.

I drove myself to the ER and the doc couldn't figure out what it was, but suggested I lay off pork, since that's what I had had for dinner. I've never eaten much pork anyway, but I really steer clear of it now. Only on special occasions, and even then I'm nervous the whole time. It came back once, about a year later, after I'd eaten spare ribs.

Hope you're better now.

14 November, 2006  
Blogger mwt. said...

Jeff: when you say that it felt like somebody was taking your gut and wringing it as if it were a wet towel, no truer words have ever been spoken.

Big Al: save me a seat at the grown-up's table when we finally get the Pizza Hut hospitality room booked.

Matt: I hope you've made your peace with pork.


14 November, 2006  

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