The Beginning of the End

On Sunday night I got a tummy ache, my belly ballooned up and I thought, “Damn, I must have eaten something bad.”

I woke up several times with my stomach distended and pain down my right side. By morning, it seemed a little better, but still there. I had some diarrhea and thought, “Yep, I ate something bad. Maybe it’s the trail mix I’ve been eating, maybe it’s the veggie omelet I had earlier.” I decided it was indigestion and trapped gas, and I just needed to work it out.

Bastien and I had planned a hike for that morning. Seven miles and just under 1400 ft. in elevation gain, it would be a good hike. I thought hiking would be a good way to “get things moving” in my bowels and help clear up the problem.

The hike was great. Beautiful scenery and an amazing moment when we saw a mama fox with her two kits. Mama had a fresh rabbit in her mouth and the two kits curiously checked us out once they got to a safe distance.

On the final leg there was a big downhill section, and every step on my right foot echoed pain in my belly. “Damn, it’s still there.”

Once we got back to the trailhead, we drove 30 minutes to Fairplay to have lunch and see the South Park City Museum. Then we would head over to Kenosha Pass to camp and hike the next day.

When we got to Fairplay, I noticed my stomach was hurting more. I hadn’t eaten all day, not even trail snacks. After a big hike, I thought I would be hungry but I wasn’t hungry at all. In fact, the thought of food made me feel sick and I ate just a few bites of some delicious food, before I pushed back the plate and asked for a takeout box. The whole time at the restaurant, I eyed the booth bench and longed to just lie down.

We left the restaurant and headed over to the museum, a really neat old-timey town with old buildings and displays. It’s the kind of place I would normally love to spend a couple of hours taking it all in. But, my belly was hurting and I felt lousy. I half-heartedly looked at a few buildings and then found places to sit and rest while I encouraged Bastien to enjoy the town. I didn’t want my being sick to prevent him from enjoying the experience.

Towards the end, I asked for the van keys and told him to take his time while I planned to go lie down and rest in Rosie the Wondervan. My stomach hurt worse and worse, I felt terrible. The pain never moved, it just camped out in my right side. “Gas would have moved by now, maybe this is appendicitis?”

I called the Kaiser advice line. After talking to a nurse and then an ER doctor, they told me to go to the nearest ER, over in Frisco. I balked. It didn’t feel THAT bad…it hurt, but it wasn’t excruciating. I didn’t want to consider that it really was that major. Maybe I could just take some antibiotics?

The told me firmly to go to the ER immediately.

I waited. I lay there on the bed in Rosie. Bastien came back and napped. Neither one of us wanted to spend the rest of the day in the ER, especially if it turned out to be nothing. But, I felt worse and worse, the pain became more constant and intense.

I called Kaiser again, a different one. I got the same message. Go to the ER in Frisco immediately. Do not pass Go, do not collect $200, go directly to the ER.

Shit.

I cried as we prepared to go. I grabbed a sweatshirt in case I got cold, my ID, my laptop. I thought we would spend a few hours in the ER and it would turn out to be basic food poisoning. They would send me off with some groovy antibiotics and I would be better in a day or two.

I was still going to Africa in 3 days, this was just a bump in the road. But I cried again as I stepped down from the van and felt pain jolt up my right side.

I knew this was a bad sign.

We left Rosie in the museum parking lot. Bastien told them the problem and they were terrific. We would leave Rosie with them and Bastien would drive me to Frisco in the rental Jeep. We figured we would return in the middle of the night, or maybe the next day.

I called my sister on the drive and cried some more. Just the thought that my trip to Tanzania was possibly at risk had me feeling pre-devastated. I had planned and trained so hard. It was the trip of a lifetime, my first time seeing Africa.

But maybe I wasn’t going to climb Kilimanjaro. Maybe I wasn’t going to do a safari on the Serengeti Plain. Maybe I wasn’t going to spend two more weeks in Zanzibar. Maybe the trip I had been training for since January wasn’t going to happen.

But, I still thought this was all overreacting. Everything was going to be fine. I made jokes that I would have a big poop while waiting in the ER and then say, “never mind doc, false alarm!”