Jul 312011
 

With less than 24 hours the start of the the SLO Triathalon where Rocky is going beat Zeb, Rocky is consummed with stomach pain.

After a few hours of resting with stomach pain and no fever the Running Brother Family meets and decides it would be best for me to see a doctor. My family is absolutely fantastic, they were all immediately on the phone trying to find a place for me to see a doctor without voiding my health insurance. Very quickly we determine their is no Kaiser on the Central Coast and French Hospital is the nearest facility for me to get a check and a quick dose of something to get me ready for my big race.

The CSPA workshop was having their 60 Anniversary gathering. Where my Dad and my number 1 hero was named to the organizations Hall of Fame.  My Dad, Brother and Sister go to the Anniversary and my mom and I are headed to French Hospital.

My mom and I walk into the ER doors and immediatly are talking to the check in desk folks and they immediatly get us to a bed, within 15 mins of walking in the doors our doctor was at talking to use and attempting to diagonis the problem.  He quickly orders a Cat Scan which is completed and sent to the Radiologist.

Within minutes we would have our answer and I was hoping to get a shot or parscription and be out of there. Unfortunently it was not my day… I had an appendicitis which required surgery. My race was over and hospital stay was going to be a lot longer than originally desired.

Fortunently for me the best doctor and anateialogist in the State were called in to perform my appendectomy. We had only walked into the doors about 3 hours before and they were wheeling me in to surgery. My brother, never being a person to miss a joke, gave me a, “if I never see you again….” joke. I was a little scared so while I laughed I didn’t paricularly appreciate it.

I schuffled over to the opposite table and before they could tell me all their names the sleepy doctor had  worked his magic. I was out. I came to in a completely different room and they were wheeling me to my overnight room where my family joined me, here is a picture of as they were wheeling me out of surgery:

My racing goals changed there: instead of beating my brother it was now to pass gas and pee as fast as possible to get out of there and watch my brother race.  I was told I could be out of the hospital the next day if everything went well.

Well everything did not go perfect for me. My body had a difficult time whipping back in to shape. I got the passing gas thing down, but hey needed me to urinate to show I was not retaining water. Either by body knew I was supposed to be swimming or it really liked that hospital water, my body retained water like a champ. After not being able to urninate on command the doctors decided to hold me one more day, which meant I would miss my brothers race.

  One Response to “Disaster Strikes the Running Brothers”

  1. Sorry for the lame joke. I was trying to make you at ease . . . wasn’t it nice that I told you, “I love you?” Well, I take it back.

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