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Appendix Removal: It’s Not That Bad, But Here’s What You Can Expect

Last November I had an inflamed appendix and they had to remove it. The procedure was called a laparoscopic appendectomy. If you’re wondering about recovery after appendix surgery because you need it or just had it, my experience will help you prepare for what’s to come. As long as your specific case is not complicated, the process is not bad so do not be afraid. However, there are certain things you need to keep in mind that are going to come up for you.

I started to feel that something was wrong on my right side, but it wasn’t very painful. It just showed up here and there or felt like a cramp. So I went to the doctor at my outpatient clinic on Sunday afternoon and he gave me a urine test and made me jump up and down. It hurt to do it, so he immediately sent me to the emergency room. I asked him, “Do you mean I have to go right now?” Also, he laughed and said, “Yes, right now!” I didn’t realize it was so serious. I didn’t think for a second that he had a problem with my appendix because the symptoms seemed tolerable.

In the emergency room, they did more tests and lab work at a deeper level. So, after about 40 minutes and a CT scan, I was told I had an inflamed appendix and a room had been prepared for me. Thank God I married a teacher and have health insurance!

Once in the hospital room, they asked me more questions and told me that the doctor would see me the next day. I was given antibiotics to try to reduce the inflammation of the appendix and I had a lack of potassium in my blood. I’m not sure how I got that, since I eat a lot of bananas, but I will say that potassium hurts when given intravenously. Your arm hurts and if the IV is given too fast, it really hurts.

So the next morning, my surgeon comes in and tells me that he has surgery scheduled for me that night, but he wants to see how the antibiotics are working and that he can delay the removal of the appendix if they work. He wasn’t too interested in waiting because he knew he had to get out at some point and he’d rather it be sooner.

After the surgeon left, I began to take note of what it is like to be in the hospital as I had never been there before. Hospitals are not places of rest. There are people coming and going all day. They take your vital signs, chest X-rays, and ask you questions. In addition, the beds in this hospital have been prepared so that you do not have decubitus ulcers. The mattresses move automatically and it’s annoying. As soon as you feel comfortable, the bed moves and now you are no longer comfortable. This would later turn out to be a problem during my next operation.

At the end of the day, I’m starting to get a really bad headache. I hadn’t eaten since Sunday morning and now it’s Monday night. The nurse tells me that the headache is common when he doesn’t eat and is connected to an IV for several days. She can’t give me a pain pill because we found out I’m going to have surgery after all and it will be that night at 8:00. At that point, I’m a little concerned that the doctor is tired. I know he would be, but several nurses assure me that he will be fine. I am lucky because everyone tells me that my surgeon is very good and I did not ask for this information.

An hour before my scheduled surgery, I am taken to pre-op where my belly area is shaved with a Bic razor. It doesn’t hurt even though they shaved it while it was dry. I’m surprised the single blade works so well. Now my biggest concern is a catheter. I am deathly afraid that they will put one on me and I don’t know if they plan to do it. I’m mostly worried that they’ll do it while I’m awake. The nurse tells me they won’t be using one for this minor operation, so I feel much better.

They take me to the operating room and at first I thought it didn’t look very official. It seemed to me an extra room prepared to be an operating room. Several nurses and assistants helped me from the wheeled bed to the operating table. After that happens, it’s literally seconds before you pass out from the anesthesia.

I wake up later in the post-op and I’m pretty out of it. I have no sense of the past tense. I can see people, hear them and respond to them, but I am very stupid. The surgeon comes over and grabs my foot and says, “Everything went great. You’ll be fine.” I thank her and the nurse tells me that she is going to remove the catheter. Turns out they decided to put one in after all. I couldn’t even focus my vision on her. I just know it’s going to happen. She pulls it out and it’s awkward for a second, but not as bad as I thought it might be.

Later they take me upstairs to my room. It’s here, in the middle of the night, that I learn that the new theory of getting better is all about getting you moving as soon as possible. This means I have to start walking down the aisles pushing my IV bottle, which is on a stand with wheels. Uncomfortable but it can be done. Bed rest is ruled out. Moving is in fashion.

Several nurses wake me up a few hours after surgery and get me out of bed to walk the halls. Also, because I had bowel surgery, in order for everything to get over the shock and work again, you need to physically move your body. This restarts your digestion system. Walking wasn’t too bad. In fact, I enjoyed it and started walking almost every 45 minutes. It was better than staying in that self-adjusting bed that wouldn’t let me sleep.

The next hurdle to overcome is that the doctor wants you to urinate and pass gas. This tells you that things are back to normal. The next morning the RN nurse was on top of me to pee. She said that she would have to put a catheter in me if I didn’t empty my bladder. She gave me an ultrasound and my bladder was full. I started to panic because I didn’t feel like urinating and now with so much emotional pressure from the threats of the catheter and the painkillers being thrown at me, I couldn’t go. Also, I was in a bit of pain after the catheter, so I didn’t feel like urinating.

For a good hour before the nurse called the doctor and asked him what to do, I worried. Thank God she told me not to get a catheter. The nurse told me and in ten minutes I relaxed and went to the bathroom. Later, the doctor told me that the nurses tend to want to speed up that process and he prefers to let it run for a while. I’m thankful.

Now at this point still no gas had passed. Having not eaten in almost 3 days, there was nothing there to produce gas. This is a big problem in the recovery process. Fortunately, I had a weak bowel movement shortly after that. This was good enough to get the “okay” from the surgeon to go home. Who would have thought that farting was so important?

In general, they really want you to go home. The hospital is not a good place for recovery. Recovery is much faster at home and you are not in danger of contracting a bacterial infection, which can be common in some hospitals. I walked a lot and pushing myself to be so physical turned out to be the reason I was allowed to go home so quickly. (This physical activity served me even better during my next operation two months later.)

I found it strange that I was one of the only people who did this. There were several heavy people there who had had stomach staples or similar procedures done who hardly ever got up and moved. I heard from the nurses that these patients were supposed to do it, but many were a bit lazy. Interesting.

Getting into the car was difficult. I found that certain movements were difficult and bending down to get into the car was one of them.

My belly was swollen and distended due to having my appendix removed laparoscopically. There was still gas in there and it took over a week for it to come out. Gas is pumped into your abdomen to lift and separate the area so it is easier to see during surgery. It felt weird being bloated like this and I felt vulnerable.

He had three small stapled and duct-taped wounds from laparoscopic surgery. I didn’t see how they could remove my appendix or work inside me through such small incisions, but they did. The doctor told me that he could shower regularly and wet the tape after surgery. It just shouldn’t rub the tape. Interestingly, several nurses thought I couldn’t take a shower.

My first night home was a bit rough. I got really cold in bed because I wasn’t regulating the heat well and it was cold in the room. I started shaking uncontrollably, which scared me. I ended up getting up and putting on long johns and socks and that worked. I also had to walk around the house for a while to relax.

The first few nights I had to take a pain pill and sleep on my back without moving much. The pain pills were Hydrocodone 5-325 one or two every four hours. (It’s a combination of Vicodin and Tylenol 325mg. The Vicodin is to keep you from coughing and the Tylenol is for pain, I read.) I think I had two the first night. That was difficult because the doctor told me first that it would take me longer to recover the more I depended on pain pills, so I was hesitant. Also, sleeping on my back is hard for me. Both of these things were fixed within the next two days, as I was able to stop taking painkillers first. I still had to sleep on my back for about two weeks.

Another thing I learned not to do was sneeze. It was excruciatingly painful the first time it happened two days after being home. I stifled every sneeze I had for about 4 weeks after that. The cough was also scary, but it was easier to deal with.

Four days later, I played with the Tomasina band at Disneyland for three consecutive nights. It was good. I took it easy. The hardest part was that my bass kept hitting my wound when I moved around too much, so most of the time I just stayed there.

A week later, I went back to the surgeon and he removed the staples. I thought it was going to hurt but it didn’t. Just a little pinched, but it was over quickly. I never had to go back after that until my next problem two months later, which is what caused my appendix problem in the first place. (Read my colon surgery story for more hospital fun.)

When I got the bill from the hospital to show what my insurance was being billed for, it was about $35,000 for my three day stay. Please get insurance if you don’t have any. Without her, this bill would have crushed me.

I would imagine that full recovery after the actual surgery took about 5-6 weeks.