I Spill My Guts... Literally

They rushed me to the hospital in Bullhead. The slight stomach ache I'd gone to sleep with the previous night turned into excruciating pain by the following morning.

Bullhead's finest spent all day poking, prodding , and testing me without any clue what was wrong. 9 hours later, with the sunset fast approaching, my E.R. doc peeked in, said a technician had rechecked my cat scan and decided it might be my appendix. (kinda, sorta, maybe.)

"We only have one surgeon here," he said, "and he's off for the weekend." So I was being sent to either Las Vegas or Lake Havasu.

I got Medivaced to Havasu in a helicopter so small, bumpy, and old I expected to see Hawkeye and B.J. welcoming me.

In half the time it took Bullhead to decide I might have appendicitis, Havasu prepped me, ripped out the offending organ, and tucked me into my private room upstairs.

Nurse: You're the one with acute appendicitis.
Me: Thank you. You're pretty cute yourself.

The ugly little mass you see held in the instrument above is what used to be my appendix. In ages past they'd give you the chopped out body parts in a jar for a souvenir. Now all you get is a snapshot. I guess someone joked at a doctor once, "Take a picture, it'll last longer!" and a lightbulb went off. The sausage-like thing to the right is my colon. For those of you who think I'm full of crap, you now have photographic proof.

I have to find my way back to Havasu Friday for some follow-up. This is why I haven't been around lately -- if anyone wondered -- and why I won't be around much for a while still. I really don't feel like writing or doing much of anything else right now. I'll try to write a couple of articles next week, but I won't be participating in the community too much.

Hey, Doc, I'd better not see that appendix-in-a-jar showing up on eBay!