It all started with a bean burrito and an enema.
But what good Saturday night doesn’t start that way, really?
Well technically, it began a bit earlier in the day, probably around 4 p.m.
And by “it” I mean Chris’s extreme stomach pain. At first he was just taking it easy on the couch complaining of a stomach ache, but eventually that “stomach ache” turned into him pacing around the room in shear pain. Chris and I are, well let’s just say we’re a very healthy metabolic couple.
So I really doubted his stomach ache had anything to do with the pipes being blocked,
but whenever I googled his symptoms that was the result I continued to get.
Well that and an appendicitis,
but I was pretty certain only twelve year olds at summer camp got those.
Around 8:30 p.m. after Chris had been moaning in pain for one too many hours I finally decided to do something about it. So I marched across the street to Walgreens with the intention of buying the one product I continued to see suggested on forums all across the internets. An enema.
Turns out theres a huge market for over-the-counter enemas. Who knew?
There were literally twenty or so different kinds. It was like the cereal aisle, only fewer animated characters on the package. I also couldn’t help but think screw buying tampons,
buying your significant other an enema is a real sign of love.
On my way to the check out I realized I was a little a hungry so I also grabbed a frozen burrito.
And it wasn’t until I was checking out and the clerk gave me a "you a little freak" look
when I realized how contradictory my two purchases were-
a bean burrito and enema. When in Rome.
Then again, I also once purchased a plunger and Fiber 1 cereal in the same grocery run, as well.
I'll need therapy at some point in my life I assume.
When I got home Chris’s pain had escalated ten fold.
Enough was enough, we had to get to a hospital. So even though I really wanted to eat my frozen bean burrito right then, it had to wait for a rainy day.
Same with the enema.
We got to the Chicago E.R. around 9:00 p.m. I’ve only been in two E.R.’s in my life,
one in Norfolk, Nebraska and the other being Seattle Grace Hospital,
also known as the hospital where the Grey’s cast works. This place didn’t look like either.
It was way busier/more intense than Norfolk, and way less horny than Seattle Grace.
I’m pretty sure the night staff here would rather hook up with a comfortable bed for a quick ten minutes than any coworker.
The first doctor Chris met with rubbed some jelly on his belly and did an ultrasound.
(And I hummed I don't think you're ready for this jelly, I don't think ready for jelly the entire time...)
Luckily, he wasn’t pregnant. But as I watched the ultrasound screen I’m pretty sure I saw an old western film play out in his stomach, which was kinda weird.
And yet very interesting.
The next doctor who came in had all of the maturity of a thirteen year old boy.
Every time he’d say “testicle” or “rectum” he’d glance my way and giggle.
Finally, I just excused myself from the room to spare him any more amusement.
I'm not sure what happened in those three minutes I was gone,
(and I don't want to know)
but when I returned the diagnosis was clear:
Chris's appendix was about to blow.
It was time to call in Bruce Willis.
And this would conclude part one of the story.
I realize this story might not be worthy of two parts but I'm tired, damn it.
It's been a long 24 hours.
Let's rendezvous tomorrow, shall we?
Great. See you then.