My mom came out of surgery this afternoon. She had a tiny cyst on her ovary. It was removed just in case it may be giving her discomfort, but it seemed too small to be a significant source of discomfort. The real culprit was an inflamed appendix, which ruptured probably not long before her surgery. It didn't appear enlarged or inflamed in CT scans or ultrasounds, and my mom's WBC was only mildly elevated. After the fact, my dad could see issues on her CT films. He didn't look at them before because he wasn't at the hospital where they were. Who knows if he would have caught it had he viewed the films himself? Neither the specialist nor the radiologist caught it. The OB-GYN was rightly very apologetic. My dad said he'll never trust anyone else to look at our X-rays again. It's unfortunate that my mom didn't have the surgery Thursday as she was supposed to, as the recovery would have been significantly shorter if the appendix had been removed before it ruptured. On the other hand, it's good that she didn't postpone today's procedure, as she had wanted to.
My Uncle Steve drove to my house after she was out of surgery to tell my aunt and me. When we saw him pull into the driveway through the living room window, I was convinced he was coming to tell us bad news because he thought it would be cold to break such news over the phone. I went into my room, locked the door, crawled into bed, and pulled the covers over my head. After my Uncle Steve explained the situation to my aunt, he came to tell me. He was, of course, locked out of my room, and I had no intention of letting him in, but the lock to my door doesn't even have a key of its own because it can be unlocked with literally any door key. My uncle picked my lock in about four seconds. he came in, pulled the covers off my head, and told me.
I don't have the words to describe the relief I felt. Then he told me the only thing my mom asked about was whether or not I had taken my medicine. I told him to bring it to me. I used an inhaler, took my antibiotic, took the disgusting s purple sludge cough syrup, and allowed myself to be injected with a steroid. It's a good thing my athletic season is not happening for a few months, because I'm not entirely sure I would pass a drug test, although they're not routinely given at my level of competition.
I slept for several hours, until just a few minutes ago. In a couple of minutes I will sleep again. The purple sludge doesn't help my croup but it knocks me out. I can afford to sleep now that I know my mom doesn't have anything terminal.