Appendicitis

When my brother was 13, he went hunting with my dad. After a couple of days, my dad had to bring him home because he didn't feel good. He kept complaining about his stomach hurting, but didn't have any other symptoms. My dad had to make a trip for supplies, so he brought P home even though the week wasn't over. His first day home he felt OK, but my mom made him an appointment anyway. The next day, she had to go to the airport to pick up a client, so my aunt took my brother to the doctor.

I got home after school to find my other aunt waiting for me. My brother was at the hospital with appendicitis, but they couldn't operate with parental consent. My dad was at hunting camp, and my mom was over an hour away at the airport. This was long before cell phones, so the only way to contact my mom was to call the airport and have them page her. I told her what was going on and she told me where to find a copy of the paper that the schools sends home giving them permission to take your kid to a doctor. My aunt and I left to go to the hospital, which was a thirty-minute drive of its own.

When we got there, my aunt pulled up at the entrance. I ran in waving the piece of paper and was met by a doctor who told us that we were just in time. He had made the decision to do the surgery anyway, without consent, and hope my parents were more appreciative then litigious.

Turns out my brother's appendix had been ruptured for several days. They removed it, but he would have to stay in the hospital until he healed. Because they had to literally pull out his other organs and clean them before putting them back, he had a big opening across his stomach instead of the usual one or two smaller openings. He ended up being there about two weeks to wait out any infection, then home for another week to gain strength and recover from pneumonia.

My mom had to change the dressing on his stomach a couple of times a day. In her typical thriftiness, she figured out that the $8 pads the hospital used were essentially the same as feminine hygiene products. I remember coming home and making fun of the fact that he had maxi-pad taped to his belly. I of course got the mom lecture about being nice to my brother, he was the only one I had, blah blah blah.

I don't remember ever feeling a lot of sympathy for my brother. He never required a lot, and my mom was always glad to baby him whether he needed it or not. But I did feel bad for him when he went through that. Two weeks in the hospital, feeling like crap, catching up at school. He even ended up having medical problems and additional surgery as an adult as a result of that.

Which is part of the reason I spent three hours at the ER last night, getting a pain in my stomach checked out. It had some of the symptoms of appendicitis, but turned out not to be. What is is (yes, it's still there), I have no idea. Too bad my mom doesn't have some legal useful home remedy to avoid for paying for needless medical attention :(