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“Yes, but it hurts even to touch. Plus, I can’t get my fever down.”
“I’m on my way.”
He’s making his way down the stairs of the office trailer when I get outside, and I rush over to him. It’s clear that every step is painful. His hand is clamped to his right side, and his skin radiates heat. “Did you take your temperature?” I ask, walking with him over to my car.
“One hundred and three. With both acetaminophen and ibuprofen.”
“It’s definitely time for the hospital.”
The closest emergency room is about fifteen minutes away, and he sleeps with his head against the window most of the way there. It’s early and the place is nearly deserted. The triage nurse escorts us back to one of the rooms without any wait.
“You don’t have to stay,” he tells me. “I just didn’t think I could manage the drive.”
Is he serious? “I’m not leaving you here.” He sits on the edge of the bed and picks up the gown they told him to put on. “Let me help.”
He manages a grin through his pain and bloodshot eyes land on mine. “Always trying to get my clothes off.”
He’s joking but I’m worried. This isn’t like a stomach bug. Once he’s undressed and lying back, the doctor comes in. A few questions are all it takes for a possible diagnosis, especially after he nearly leaps off the table when the doctor presses on his abdomen.
“We’re going to get a scan and blood work, but this is likely appendicitis.”
“Surgery?” Cooper asks, grimacing as he tries to get comfortable again.
“Possibly. We’ll see what the scan shows. In the meantime, the nurse will be in to start an IV and get you some pain relief.”
The nurse, an older lady with a kind smile, enters as if his words conjured her. Cooper barely opens his eyes as she administers the IV. His forehead smooths out and his grimace relaxes. Poor guy was really hurting.
“Is that better?” I ask, after the doctor and nurse have left.
“Much better. All I want to do is sleep. Been up all night,” he mumbles.
“You should’ve called me earlier.” I hate the thought of him suffering alone all night.
“I thought it would get better.”
“Well, rest now.” He doesn’t get much of a chance before they come to wheel him off for the scan.
Things move quickly after that. It’s appendicitis alright, and in danger of rupturing. They get him prepped for surgery within an hour. He’s more aware once they get his fever down and his pain under control. While we’re waiting for the surgeon that had to be called in on a Sunday morning, he glances over at me.
“I’ve never had surgery. Never been put to sleep before.” Nerves rattle his voice.
I take his hand. “Let me tell you what it’s like. I’ve been put out for tonsils as a kid and my tubal ligation a couple of years ago. Both times for me, it was like I blinked then it was over. I didn’t believe anything had been done. They’ll give you something through your IV that makes you a little sleepy, then have you breathe with a mask. Sometimes they tell you to count backwards from ten. I never made it past eight.” I squeeze his hand. “It doesn’t feel bad or scary at all. Next thing you know you’re waking up in the recovery room. The worst part to me is that they won’t leave you alone when you just want to sleep.”
I’m glad to see a small smile at that.
“Are you sure you don’t want me to call anyone? Your mom or other family?”
“No, it’ll only worry her when she’s too far away to show up.”
“I’ll be right here.”
“Just don’t let them put me into one of those vegit...vegititable states.” The pain meds are clearly doing their job.
“You’ll be fine. Awake and annoying me in no time.”
A few minutes later, he’s wheeled away, and I’m led to a small waiting room. Waiting for someone to come through a surgery is worse than being operated on yourself. What if something goes wrong? What if there’s some complication or they can’t wake him up afterward? The minutes drag by while I alternate between pacing and sitting. I’m tempted to call one of my friends, but I don’t want to wake them up when there’s nothing they can do and he’s probably going to be fine.
Finally, the post op nurse steps into the room and introduces himself as Liam. “The surgery went well, and Mr. Addington is in recovery.”
