So where were we?
Oh yes, Chris's appendix was about to explode and MaGruber had to be called in.
Time was of the essence, or so we thought.
But in reality the clock had just struck midnight,
meaning it was now prime time in the downtown Chicago E.R.
Code yellows were being announced over the speaker left and right.
Just like with stoplights, code yellow means move your ass!!!
Red means nothing.
And blue means you're dead.
Chris and I sat in the room and waited for someone to tell us our next step until roughly 2 a.m.
I did everything I could to entertain myself while Chris enjoyed the warm fuzzies floating in his head
thanks to the pain meds that were now pumping through his veins.
I played with the tools on the wall, I rubbed ultra sound jelly on my arms,
and I blew up countless plastic gloves to look like cow utters.
Finally around 3 a.m. we were taken to a room on the 9th floor to rest until surgery time.
After Chris was all checked in I decided to head home for a bit to check on Harlow.
And I also had a nice little bean burrito waiting for me in the freezer...
I ate my burrito, hung out with Harlow, and grabbed a quick nap before I returned to the hospital about four hours later.
When I returned, Chris was a little goofy on pain meds,
and the nurse had dressed him in a much too small hospital gown.
Luckily, he is very comfortable in his own skin and didn't seem to mind the extra breeze.
Very unlike me, who at the age of fourteen when I had to get a tumor removed the one and only thing I was most terrified about regarding surgery was someone seeing my butt in the hospital gown.
Anyway, the surgeon had just come into the room go over a few things and introduce himself.
When he asked where Chris worked and he responded "Groupon,"
I couldn't help but add, "that's why we're here, we have a Groupon for this."
And the surgeon responded, "seriously?"
"No... I was kidding. We don't have a Groupon for an appendectomy."
Anyone else ever notice how sometimes really smart people are also the most ditzy?
Chris was taken down to surgery and I was left to wait.
I sat around for roughly forty five seconds before heading down to the hospital buffet.
Since Chris couldn't eat, I figured I owed it to him to grab enough for both of us.
We're talking mashed potatoes, stuffed pasta, mini cheesecakes, deli meat, salad bar...
The buffet was okay... It wasn't bad, but like I always say,
a buffet is only as good as its worst french fry.
And the fries could have used a little salt. And Lawrys.
Meanwhile this was Chris's menu.
If you'd like to drop ten pounds by the weekend just follow course.
The surgeon returned a few hours later to tell me everything went well and Chris would
be coming out soon.
He also noted that Chris had the "the biggest inflamed appendix" he'd ever removed.
(Chris never does anything half ass.)
I know some people like to see their appendix, like in a jar or something after it's been taken out,
but I'm not really into canning things.
Now if it was a placenta, that would be a different story...
Eww.
Remember when January Jones ate her placenta like a fruit rollup?
Yeah, she did. Chew on that one for a second.
Anywho...
We're almost in the clear to go home.
I've had enough hospital sitting my liking.
And I know this whole ordeal has been pretty tough on Harlow.
Last night when I got home he hadn't even touched the peanut butter toy I left out.
That's the equivalent of me not touching a bowl of Cool Ranch Doritos.
(That's never happened.)
Thank you for all of the kind tweets/emails/comments!
Hopefully this will be my last hospital edition post for a long time.
See you on the outside.
XOXO
Doogey Howser
PS- Tonight I have a special guest poster for my Bachelor Edition.
Clue: it's black and hairy and hangs out on Tierra's Face.
and after just rereading this I realized how many nasty jokes I just set myself up for there.
Oh yes, Chris's appendix was about to explode and MaGruber had to be called in.
Time was of the essence, or so we thought.
But in reality the clock had just struck midnight,
meaning it was now prime time in the downtown Chicago E.R.
Code yellows were being announced over the speaker left and right.
Just like with stoplights, code yellow means move your ass!!!
Red means nothing.
And blue means you're dead.
Chris and I sat in the room and waited for someone to tell us our next step until roughly 2 a.m.
I did everything I could to entertain myself while Chris enjoyed the warm fuzzies floating in his head
thanks to the pain meds that were now pumping through his veins.
I played with the tools on the wall, I rubbed ultra sound jelly on my arms,
and I blew up countless plastic gloves to look like cow utters.
Finally around 3 a.m. we were taken to a room on the 9th floor to rest until surgery time.
After Chris was all checked in I decided to head home for a bit to check on Harlow.
And I also had a nice little bean burrito waiting for me in the freezer...
I ate my burrito, hung out with Harlow, and grabbed a quick nap before I returned to the hospital about four hours later.
When I returned, Chris was a little goofy on pain meds,
and the nurse had dressed him in a much too small hospital gown.
Luckily, he is very comfortable in his own skin and didn't seem to mind the extra breeze.
Very unlike me, who at the age of fourteen when I had to get a tumor removed the one and only thing I was most terrified about regarding surgery was someone seeing my butt in the hospital gown.
Anyway, the surgeon had just come into the room go over a few things and introduce himself.
When he asked where Chris worked and he responded "Groupon,"
I couldn't help but add, "that's why we're here, we have a Groupon for this."
And the surgeon responded, "seriously?"
"No... I was kidding. We don't have a Groupon for an appendectomy."
Anyone else ever notice how sometimes really smart people are also the most ditzy?
Chris was taken down to surgery and I was left to wait.
I sat around for roughly forty five seconds before heading down to the hospital buffet.
Since Chris couldn't eat, I figured I owed it to him to grab enough for both of us.
We're talking mashed potatoes, stuffed pasta, mini cheesecakes, deli meat, salad bar...
The buffet was okay... It wasn't bad, but like I always say,
a buffet is only as good as its worst french fry.
And the fries could have used a little salt. And Lawrys.
Meanwhile this was Chris's menu.
If you'd like to drop ten pounds by the weekend just follow course.
The surgeon returned a few hours later to tell me everything went well and Chris would
be coming out soon.
He also noted that Chris had the "the biggest inflamed appendix" he'd ever removed.
(Chris never does anything half ass.)
I know some people like to see their appendix, like in a jar or something after it's been taken out,
but I'm not really into canning things.
Now if it was a placenta, that would be a different story...
Eww.
Remember when January Jones ate her placenta like a fruit rollup?
Yeah, she did. Chew on that one for a second.
Anywho...
We're almost in the clear to go home.
I've had enough hospital sitting my liking.
And I know this whole ordeal has been pretty tough on Harlow.
Last night when I got home he hadn't even touched the peanut butter toy I left out.
That's the equivalent of me not touching a bowl of Cool Ranch Doritos.
(That's never happened.)
Thank you for all of the kind tweets/emails/comments!
Hopefully this will be my last hospital edition post for a long time.
See you on the outside.
XOXO
Doogey Howser
PS- Tonight I have a special guest poster for my Bachelor Edition.
Clue: it's black and hairy and hangs out on Tierra's Face.
and after just rereading this I realized how many nasty jokes I just set myself up for there.
