Everything has happened.

Okay... slight exaggeration... but let me just say that I gotta get this ball a'rollin' because every day that I don't make a post, something happens.  And every day I don't blog about it, the happenings keep on happening.  And then I just feel like giving up because there is just too much to talk about.  So, my goal is to tell about as many things as possible, as quickly as possible, in as short a time as possible.

HA.

Good luck, Kels. (P.S. I hate that nickname... Don't call me that.)

In most relevant news, my husband is laid up on the couch because he just had emergency surgery.  Yes, we had a wonderful Thanksgiving break with family (future post, maybe).  We got back late Saturday night, and then Sunday morning, D started violently puking.  While you are saying, "Ewwwwwww", let me just tell you that you were not here to hear it, so you are blessed.  Starting at 9am, the violence came every hour on the dot.  Now maybe you are thinking he just had the flu or something.  Unfortunately, he is not so lucky. 

Several years back, D started developing this acid reflux type of reaction to foods, stress... not really 100% sure.  He would have severe "episodes" that would render him inable to control his own movements.  People found him in all kinds of places collapsed and shaking.  Doctors never could pinpoint the exact cause, but were able to supply him with enough meds to quell the symptoms.  I'd like to say that I'm the cure because he has not had any of these episodes since he has known me... That is until Sunday... notthecure :(

Anyway, this time was a little bit different because the time lapse between hurls was significantly longer than before.  D wanted to wait it out, but by about 11 am, I told him NO-SIREE-BOB.  Get a jacket.  We are going to the hospital.

We arrived at the Hendersonville Medical Center at about 1pm with his parents.  He went to the bathroom for privacy, but his violence was projected loud enough for the entire waiting room to be able to hear.  (Thank you very much for that.)  We finally got to the back and got him stuck with needles and such.  P.S. Meds = A Passed Out Hubbs

The doctor came in to tell us what he thought about the hurls, and had some new info that D had not heard before.  However, before we got to get that medicine and get outta there, the nurse came in to share that the bloodwork showed that he would need a CT scan.  After waiting hours and hours and hours (or maybe just one of those hours), they told us that appendix needed to go.  Let's take it out! they said...  Is this the solution to the problem?  I wish I could tell you.  However, the surgeon was very clear in stating that he believes the original symptoms are not related to the appendix removal.  Great.  There may still be a whole other issue we are going to come back to in the future.

After that surgeon came in, they swept him away to surgery and 30 minutes later, there was my drugged babycakes all passed out on a hospital bed, minus an appendix.  This was not the day we had planned.

Also, they made D practice his breathing... You know, in case he forgot how after the anestesia.  (Just kidding.  It was so he wouldn't develop pneumonia.)

Let me insert a side story for a moment.  I have a tendency to develop severe anxiety when people around me get sick.  I have a fear of throwing up that actually causes me to battle waves of nausea (ironic).  I had made it ALL DAY LONG hearing D's violence in the restrooms and hopsital and whatnot.  Here I am watching him sleep, knowing that I'm going to be in this hospital with him all night, and what do I do??  Start feeling my own nausea.  Part of me KNEW it was just in my head, but the other part knew that my husband spent the day hurling, my mom went home with a fever, and I just left family where one of my cousins had a hurling episode of his own.  There was a chance this was real.  So when D's mom came back to drop off my overnight stuff (she is awesome), I told her how I felt.  Being the great mom-in-law that she is, she went downstairs with me and helped me check into the ER myself.

I am ridiculous.  I know.

Don't worry though.  I didn't leave him by himself.  He had his big brother with him, so I'm not a terrible wife.  My excuse is that I didn't want my huband to be hospitalized all by himself, okay?!  So anyway, I came back clear except for low potassium (I don't like bananas).  But I got my first IV!  That was scary times.  Not because of the needle... but because when D got the IV earlier, it made him throw up again.  And you know how I feel about throwing up!

Anyway, I trotted my pitiful self back to my baby to show off my matching bracelet and we spent the night together all cozy in the hospital room.

He's back at home now.  The healing is wishy-washy.  He's doing better being able to move about.  However, he is battling whether or not to take his meds because he thinks they are making him feel worse.  Just pray for my baby that he will heal superfast and be all normal again. 

I just love him so much, and I hate not being able to fix him!  It's like the most terrible thing ever.  I am humbled to know that this could have been so much worse, and I give so much credit to anyone who has ever been a caregiver to a loved one.  This is just our first experience with this, and I pray that we don't have to do this again in the near future.  If you know someone around you who is caring for someone in a similar manner, go give them a hug or a word of encouragement!  They need it!!! 

This is my story for today.

Get better hubbs.  I need you back!