Well. So this last three weeks has been a bit of an adventure! If you noticed the previous post, you'll know that we are the midst of transitioning to a new ministry here in Costa Rica. As if that wasn't enough to make life interesting, three weeks ago I decided that a major medical procedure in a another country and in my second language would be a fun thing to add to my list of accomplishment. Good grief.
It sorta came out of no where. The Wednesday before Easter I didn't feel right all day. Something was just "off". As the day progressed I felt worse and worse, but chalked it up to the weird things that happen to your guts here in the tropics. The night was pretty awful, but the next day I woke up, right as rain as they say, and we were off to a picnic with friends. The next day we visited a farm here (I really do need to share about that) and then we enjoyed more friends on Saturday and Easter Sunday. Monday was fine, but Tuesday night I wasn't feeling good. As in, couldn't get any relief from this awful pain in my side. Nothing helped and by morning Noah was telling me we were going to see the good Dr. Longworth that day, no questions.
I was able to call and get an appointment and as Dr. Longworth was trying to figure out what was going on, he finally looked at me and said, "did you tell anyone here you were in this much pain?" "No." "Ok, we are heading to ER."
The clever thing about the doctor's offices here in Costa Rica is that they are in the hospital. So, when Dr. Longworth said "We are heading to ER" that meant going down an elevator and around the corner. Which was good, because I was in a lot of pain. You know the scale deal, 1 to 10? Probably around a 8. Sorta like labor, but no break in between contractions.
They had the typical hard time of finding a vein for an IV, but in just about a half hour, they wheeled me down the hall to radiology and I had an ultrasound to figure out exactly what was going on. The same Ultrasound doctor we had with Quinn came in and gave us much less exciting news. Instead of discovering we were going to have a baby boy, we found out I had a giant cyst, well, two giant cysts (that actually turned out to be one big huge one that had twisted twice...but I am getting ahead of myself.) After I learned the new vocabulary word "quiste" we also learned that I was going to be having surgery that night. As in just a few hours.
When we thought I was just going to hang out in the ER for a few hours, we had called friends that lived close to the hospital to come take Quinn and Elliot for the day. So, at the point we learned I as going to have surgery, they were already with there. Those same friends picked Forrest up from school, and took care of all the boys for the next three days. Can you say AMAZING friends? Yeah, all at the drop of a hat!
The surgery was successful and they got that nasty thing out. Also, my Spanish is much better under the influence of pain killers! I spent two days in the hospital. Meanwhile, we had tons of support! People jumped right in to take care of the boys, to bring meals, to get groceries, to help our families in the States know what was going on (yeah, that is a whole story in and of itself! Stupid internet!) My mom was able to come down for about a week and a half to help! Amazing!
The pathology report came back and everything is fine, for which we are thankful! What a wild few weeks!