Greetings all! I know it has been a little while since I last posted, but there has been good reason. As you read in my last post, I was recovering from my surgery. Then there was a week back at work, but there was still pain, so I wasn't up for doing much other than resting (and frequent rushes to the facilities). I popped a stitch as well, so I went back to the doctor and he took care of it with some "glue." Yep, they just glue you up and send you on your way. Let that be a lesson to anyone thinking of not following doctor's orders and trying to do more than the doc says you're allowed. Stupid military mindset.
Secondly, we went on vacation...to the Canary Islands. Well, let me tell you, if you're ever thinking about going, save your money! The people we encountered almost everywhere were rude (except our waitress at Hooters, she was superb!) and couldn't be bothered with the tourists that we were.
The trip started off generally pleasantly, but almost as soon as we landed, the trouble began. The hotel we booked didn't offer shuttle service, so we had to take a taxi. We got in a taxi and asked the driver to take us to our hotel...but the paperwork we had from the hotel didn't have the name of the place on it, just a city...so the driver took us there and dropped us off...in the middle of nowhere...in the middle of the night (3am). I am so sorry I don't speak more Spanish than I do. I did what I could, but I'm limited. So we were stranded. We called the taxi company to try and get another taxi, but there were no signs around to tell us where we were, so I had to describe what was around us. Another hour later (now 4am) a taxi drove by, so I tried to flag it down, but it zoomed past me (a problem with wearing all black in the night with nothing around you...so when it turned around, I whipped off my shirt and the paleness of my skin was like a beacon to the driver. He picked us up and drove us down the road a little. Still,not having the name of our hotel, he dropped us off at the wrong place again! So here we are, walking around a foreign country with our luggage in the middle of the night, not knowing where we were, or how close we were to our hotel. So long, painful story short, we started walking, and luckily, our hotel was just about a hundred yards away. Praise God!
Don't get me wrong, some parts of the trip were nice, like the views. We walked down to the beach front and saw the Mediterranean. That was cool! We saw the ruins of an old Spanish fort that had been built on an inlet so as not to look like anything from the water other than more rocks on the beach (our island was a volcanic island, so rocks were prominent...I even saw the lava flow residue). We also spent a great day at a waterpark. Good times, but yours truly, forgot (neglected) to wear sunscreen, and paid for it dearly. The only part of me that didn't burn in some way were my swim trunk areas, and my operation scars, that I had the fortune of rubbing with a SPF lotion before leaving that morning. The best part, though, was a night of dinner and theater (pics to come) where they did popular songs from musicals set in locations all over the world. Yours truly got up on stage, and was serenaded by a man in drag singing "Big Spender," while Vanessa was asked to be a part of a yodelling competition. It was great fun! We also went on a boat trip to see whales (we got to see a family (pod) of four or five - Mom, Dad, and a few little babies - but again, there were rude people there, so it was a mixed trip (Seriously, who jumps over and in front of another person and stands there purposely blocking the view!!!). I got more sun there, so yeah, like the header reads, I'm a little crispy.
But, now we're back, and ready to start work again...I hope things get better. There's a chance work will be sending me back to Spain in a few weeks. Yay, travel season!
- - - -
ULI
31 May 2009
06 May 2009
It's Gone (The Epic Tale)
Short Version:
I had my gall bladder removed last week.
Long Version:
Two weeks ago, I was sent on temporary assignment with the United States Air Forces Europe Band. They were going on tour to Bulgaria and Moldova, and I was going along to cover their concerts and exploits for the news. The first part of the trip was touring Bulgaria. I learned that when the band is not on a plane, they're on a tour bus, and the only time they leave the bus is to play a gig, or sleep at a hotel. The first gig was my chance to see the band in action, see how the concerts worked, where the performers stood, and what the set list sounded like. I filmed everything I could, the band members,the singers, the audience, and the sound guy. After the first concert, I better knew how to film everything, so I wouldn't have to shoot as much footage; this would also allow me to shoot some of the tour bus and travel footage I'd need for another story. Then over the next four days I gathered footage of the group, and the local area so I could put together some nice pieces.
Then we flew to Moldova.
The country was beautiful, lush with greenery, and the soil was as black as night, and each person under the age of 25 looked like they were brought to life "Weird Science" style, from any one of a dozen magazines. A truly lovely place to see from the tour bus. The first day there, the band had two concerts. The first one went fine and I got a lot of good footage. Then we went to lunch and headed to the second show. That show's energy was awesome. There were Moldovan military personnel in the audience, so it was neat to share the American military with them through music. That's when it happened...
All of a sudden, I got a feeling in my stomach - a sort of dull presence (kind of like when you have to go to the bathroom) - but I had more work to do, so I passed it off and pressed on. Then the dull presence became more of a low throb. At that point,I thought maybe I'd eaten something bad at lunch, so I put down my camera, excused myself (the show had luckily just ended but the band still had to do meet and greets), and went outside to...ermm... try to throw up. But nothing. The pain increased suddenly and quickly, as if someone had just stabbed me in the abdomen with a knife. I doubled over, then fell down. This is when I knew something was wrong. I felt the color drain from my skin as the pain just kept growing. I crawled back inside and hoped someone would see me, which they did, and I got to ask, "Is there a doctor in the house?" Seriously! Well, there was no doctor, but one of the Moldovan troops knew where their ambulatory care facility was, so someone (somehow) walked me to a car and drove me to it. My eyes were clinched so tightly on the way, and the pain was so horrible, all I could do was say, "drive slower!" to whoever was driving...hoping the whole time I was actually being taken to a doctor, and not starring in a live version of Hostel 3.
Well, I was in trouble, because before the doctor could get a word out of me, I was placed on a table, and given two shots of what I would later learn was pure morphine. --on a side note, the stuff is wonderful! end of note.-- after a half hour, I was calm enough to talk, and through light interpretation, I got across that I felt like either an alien was about to explode from my body,or spontaneous combustion is a real phenomena and was taking place in my belly. I got an x-ray, and then things got hazy. The next thing I remember, was being wheeled into an "ambulance" then getting out at a "hospital." I'm sure that these were lovely facilities...once...in the 1840's;but now it was a decrepit structure with visible deterioration and other problems not fit to write here (but why not...there were standing puddles of urine, rats running on the floor, and visible evidence of blood and feces on some of the beds). Lucky me, I got to spend the night in this place. Fortunately, on of the band members stayed with me, to keep an eye on me, and to report my progress to the band, and everyone else we're supposed to contact in an emergency. Yes, even Vanessa.
Then something miraculous happened.
The pain went away.
Yes.
Just like that.
BOOM, Gone!
Choirs of angels sang Hallelujah!!
Still, things had been set in motion that would keep me in the hospital for the rest of the day. I got another x-ray, and an ultrasound, and another ambulance ride to the capital city's hospital (nice place, more 1960's), and got my "diagnosis"...either I had pancreatitis, gall stones, liver failure, a perforated ulcer, or some combination of the before mentioned maladies. I was also informed that a medical evacuation plane was en route to fly me back to Germany to take me to a modern military hospital. So I got my own private Leer Jet Ambulance ride to Germany, and was taken by ambulance to the medical hospital just up the street from where I live and work - all while feeling fine, and asking if I could just get back to work. It's important to note, also, that the last time I ate was lunch before the second performance, and that was on a Tuesday. Then I spent a day in the hospital, then an ambulance ride to another hospital, then another ambulance, then got flown to Germany, then an ambulance ride to yet another hospital. So I was hungry, but each place told me I'd need to fast, just in case surgery was necessary...so IV's became my literal lifeblood. A third set of ultrasounds and x-rays in Germany, another IV, and a (clean) room to sleep in,and I was out like a light.
Vanessa came by the next day to brighten my spirits, and bring me some stuff I'd need while in the hospital. Some of the crew from work also showed up, and that was nice, but the doctors had me on sleepy meds, so I didn't get to see them long before I was drowsy. I remember that the pastor of my church also came by for a little bit, too...we prayed and chatted for a few minutes, but a nurse came in and had to get me a new IV. I asked when I might get released,because I really was fine, but the nursing staff just kept telling me I'd have to spend another night in the hospital, hooked to an IV. Vanessa and Kristen came by again later that evening (hard to tell when exactly, as time seems to take on a new meaning when you're starving and medicated). All I could think about, was how hungry I was...because I was trapped in a hospital, and I felt FINE, yet somehow I was not allowed to eat. Then I finally found out why.
Gall Stones. That's what the diagnosis was. 3/4 centimeter large gall stones...bunches of them...and the life changing pain was from one getting trapped between my liver and my pancreas - sending bile into my pancreas (causing pancreatitis) thus causing the pain as intense as a thousand suns. Removal was the only option. I'd spend one more night, and if need be, I'd get prepped for surgery. If not, they'd let me go with a follow-up appointment to get it removed.
The next morning, I got a procedure that checked the stones, and they were fine, blood levels were okay, and bile was flowing as normal, so they let me go. I headed to the nearest Burger King an had a feast of french toast sticks.
MMMMMMMmmmmmmmm!!!!!!!!
Well, I went in for my follow-up, and things had gotten pretty bad in there again, so I got set up fo surgery. Recovery was no fun, and it seems that under anesthesia, I make funny phone calls I won't remember three seconds after I make them. Then I spent a week in the house, on my couch, trying not to move. More people from work came by to check on me, and I got a cane from Vanessa and Kristen so I could move around easier. I was feeling so-so over the weekend, so I got to watch them graduate (YAY GIRLS!!!), but then the pain got bad again, and I needed more time to rest.
So this has been a long post just to tell you my gall bladder was removed a week ago, and now I'm okay enough to get back to work, and write up this novella about the experience. I'm taking things slow, but soon enough the doctor assures me, I'll be back to mostly normal.
:)
- - - -
ULI
I had my gall bladder removed last week.
Long Version:
Two weeks ago, I was sent on temporary assignment with the United States Air Forces Europe Band. They were going on tour to Bulgaria and Moldova, and I was going along to cover their concerts and exploits for the news. The first part of the trip was touring Bulgaria. I learned that when the band is not on a plane, they're on a tour bus, and the only time they leave the bus is to play a gig, or sleep at a hotel. The first gig was my chance to see the band in action, see how the concerts worked, where the performers stood, and what the set list sounded like. I filmed everything I could, the band members,the singers, the audience, and the sound guy. After the first concert, I better knew how to film everything, so I wouldn't have to shoot as much footage; this would also allow me to shoot some of the tour bus and travel footage I'd need for another story. Then over the next four days I gathered footage of the group, and the local area so I could put together some nice pieces.
Then we flew to Moldova.
The country was beautiful, lush with greenery, and the soil was as black as night, and each person under the age of 25 looked like they were brought to life "Weird Science" style, from any one of a dozen magazines. A truly lovely place to see from the tour bus. The first day there, the band had two concerts. The first one went fine and I got a lot of good footage. Then we went to lunch and headed to the second show. That show's energy was awesome. There were Moldovan military personnel in the audience, so it was neat to share the American military with them through music. That's when it happened...
All of a sudden, I got a feeling in my stomach - a sort of dull presence (kind of like when you have to go to the bathroom) - but I had more work to do, so I passed it off and pressed on. Then the dull presence became more of a low throb. At that point,I thought maybe I'd eaten something bad at lunch, so I put down my camera, excused myself (the show had luckily just ended but the band still had to do meet and greets), and went outside to...ermm... try to throw up. But nothing. The pain increased suddenly and quickly, as if someone had just stabbed me in the abdomen with a knife. I doubled over, then fell down. This is when I knew something was wrong. I felt the color drain from my skin as the pain just kept growing. I crawled back inside and hoped someone would see me, which they did, and I got to ask, "Is there a doctor in the house?" Seriously! Well, there was no doctor, but one of the Moldovan troops knew where their ambulatory care facility was, so someone (somehow) walked me to a car and drove me to it. My eyes were clinched so tightly on the way, and the pain was so horrible, all I could do was say, "drive slower!" to whoever was driving...hoping the whole time I was actually being taken to a doctor, and not starring in a live version of Hostel 3.
Well, I was in trouble, because before the doctor could get a word out of me, I was placed on a table, and given two shots of what I would later learn was pure morphine. --on a side note, the stuff is wonderful! end of note.-- after a half hour, I was calm enough to talk, and through light interpretation, I got across that I felt like either an alien was about to explode from my body,or spontaneous combustion is a real phenomena and was taking place in my belly. I got an x-ray, and then things got hazy. The next thing I remember, was being wheeled into an "ambulance" then getting out at a "hospital." I'm sure that these were lovely facilities...once...in the 1840's;but now it was a decrepit structure with visible deterioration and other problems not fit to write here (but why not...there were standing puddles of urine, rats running on the floor, and visible evidence of blood and feces on some of the beds). Lucky me, I got to spend the night in this place. Fortunately, on of the band members stayed with me, to keep an eye on me, and to report my progress to the band, and everyone else we're supposed to contact in an emergency. Yes, even Vanessa.
Then something miraculous happened.
The pain went away.
Yes.
Just like that.
BOOM, Gone!
Choirs of angels sang Hallelujah!!
Still, things had been set in motion that would keep me in the hospital for the rest of the day. I got another x-ray, and an ultrasound, and another ambulance ride to the capital city's hospital (nice place, more 1960's), and got my "diagnosis"...either I had pancreatitis, gall stones, liver failure, a perforated ulcer, or some combination of the before mentioned maladies. I was also informed that a medical evacuation plane was en route to fly me back to Germany to take me to a modern military hospital. So I got my own private Leer Jet Ambulance ride to Germany, and was taken by ambulance to the medical hospital just up the street from where I live and work - all while feeling fine, and asking if I could just get back to work. It's important to note, also, that the last time I ate was lunch before the second performance, and that was on a Tuesday. Then I spent a day in the hospital, then an ambulance ride to another hospital, then another ambulance, then got flown to Germany, then an ambulance ride to yet another hospital. So I was hungry, but each place told me I'd need to fast, just in case surgery was necessary...so IV's became my literal lifeblood. A third set of ultrasounds and x-rays in Germany, another IV, and a (clean) room to sleep in,and I was out like a light.
Vanessa came by the next day to brighten my spirits, and bring me some stuff I'd need while in the hospital. Some of the crew from work also showed up, and that was nice, but the doctors had me on sleepy meds, so I didn't get to see them long before I was drowsy. I remember that the pastor of my church also came by for a little bit, too...we prayed and chatted for a few minutes, but a nurse came in and had to get me a new IV. I asked when I might get released,because I really was fine, but the nursing staff just kept telling me I'd have to spend another night in the hospital, hooked to an IV. Vanessa and Kristen came by again later that evening (hard to tell when exactly, as time seems to take on a new meaning when you're starving and medicated). All I could think about, was how hungry I was...because I was trapped in a hospital, and I felt FINE, yet somehow I was not allowed to eat. Then I finally found out why.
Gall Stones. That's what the diagnosis was. 3/4 centimeter large gall stones...bunches of them...and the life changing pain was from one getting trapped between my liver and my pancreas - sending bile into my pancreas (causing pancreatitis) thus causing the pain as intense as a thousand suns. Removal was the only option. I'd spend one more night, and if need be, I'd get prepped for surgery. If not, they'd let me go with a follow-up appointment to get it removed.
The next morning, I got a procedure that checked the stones, and they were fine, blood levels were okay, and bile was flowing as normal, so they let me go. I headed to the nearest Burger King an had a feast of french toast sticks.
MMMMMMMmmmmmmmm!!!!!!!!
Well, I went in for my follow-up, and things had gotten pretty bad in there again, so I got set up fo surgery. Recovery was no fun, and it seems that under anesthesia, I make funny phone calls I won't remember three seconds after I make them. Then I spent a week in the house, on my couch, trying not to move. More people from work came by to check on me, and I got a cane from Vanessa and Kristen so I could move around easier. I was feeling so-so over the weekend, so I got to watch them graduate (YAY GIRLS!!!), but then the pain got bad again, and I needed more time to rest.
So this has been a long post just to tell you my gall bladder was removed a week ago, and now I'm okay enough to get back to work, and write up this novella about the experience. I'm taking things slow, but soon enough the doctor assures me, I'll be back to mostly normal.
:)
- - - -
ULI
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)