I arrived at the ER around 3:15 PM, I didn’t see a doctor until about 3 hours later, by then my heart rate was through the roof and I was burning up so badly, they put me in a bed and doped me up with morphine and antibiotics still not knowing what the problem was because an ultrasound revealed nothing was wrong. I had a CT scan of my stomach but the results took 6 hours to deliver. By then it was 2:15 AM, the nicest male nurse and doctor confirmed it was appendicitis. I was absolutely shocked! They had to admit me in the hospital but that didn’t happen until 6:30 AM after going through my entire medical history and listing all medications. There were endless questions so I got zero sleep the night before my emergency appendectomy took place around 11 am on July 4th of all days. 

My sucky surgeon didn’t even bother to stick around after I woke up and there was nobody available to tell me exactly what happened due to it being a major holiday. None of the nurses would tell me the results and I had so many questions with no help in sight. The next day I got a phone call from the surgeon who was very curt with zero empathy for me and my concerns. That’s when I found out my appendix had burst and the tissue was dead! I used my own chronological events, since the surgeon could’t tell me when or how bad the rupture was, to figure out that it must’ve burst on Monday when I started having severe stomach pains that woke me up at 4 AM but I was experiencing lots of discomfort before going to bed that evening. Since I survived three days before getting my perforated and decomposing appendix removed, my whole body was infected and I was septic which means the infection got into my bloodstream.

Looking back on this life-threatening condition and now knowing I almost died, that was not what traumatized me, it was the horrific experiences I was a forced to endure in that prison-like hospital! The night after I got out of surgery they gave me a cup of bone broth and the next morning I was limited to a liquid breakfast, again bone broth and some cream of wheat, but I was feeling pretty good considering I didn’t sleep much due to the pain. Then the Physician’s Assistant (PA) came to my room that next morning and caused more extreme pain by tightening the suction on my drain that was already severely uncomfortable. I was crying, begging and pleading for her to reverse those actions, but of course no one would listen. So she told the nurse to give me more pain meds even though they had just given me a very strong dose 2 hours prior, resulting in so much nausea I and dizziness I could’t get out of bed that entire day. It also meant the PA restricted me from any/all liquid foods and no water. I still hadn’t slept a wink and they were starving me to death. I was so confused (and heavily medicated) because as a professional bodybuilder, I know for a fact the two main recovery components are food and sleep and I hadn’t received any in the past 48 hours I was in the hospital. That third night I finally thought I would get some deep sleep, but nope, the same things that took place every night prior prevented me from any solid rest once again. The nurses came barging in every 2-3 hours to administer more pain meds or antibiotics, other nurses woke me up just to check vitals, and the worst was at 5 am when a nurse turned on all the florescent lights to draw blood. I was infuriated! Out of the 3 nights/days I spent in that prison of a hospital I only received 8 hours of sleep with a total of 3 liquid meals.

Now my mental health was completely deteriorating because of the panic caused by them waking me up all hours of the night. And it wasn’t just them, the IV machine that I was hooked up to 24/7 would randomly alarm day or night for no reason. My anxiety started taking over. It’s one thing to take away my liquid foods due to nausea but to deprive me of sleep after I repeatedly asked them to not bother me was getting on my nerves. That’s when I realized the hospital didn’t want me to heal. They weren’t trying to help me get better, they were purposely keeping me ill! The sicker I was, the longer I would have to stay in the hospital and pay their ridiculous fees out of pocket! That’s how our medical system works unfortunately it’s nothing more than a business. I went to the ER on a Wednesday afternoon and I demanded they discharge me Saturday. As soon as my bloodwork and vitals were good, I fought for my life to break out of that prison. I pissed off a lot of doctors, nurses and a different surgeon who was going to rip out my drain after only 1 day when my own surgeon told me to keep it in for a week. Boy was his ego hurt when I told him NO WAY. The PA removed my drain a week later and the 3 incisions are finally healing up but still sore. As I write this, today marks exactly 2 weeks post appendectomy and 4 weeks post-op spine surgery.