Appendect-OH-MY! – Part 2

13 08 2009

AppendixI apologize for the delay in getting Part 2 of my adventures posted. For those of you who might still be interested to hear what happened, here you go…

Part 2: The Hospital

When we first arrived at the hospital, they rolled me into triage where the nurses retook my vitals and asked me questions about my medical history. I felt bad for the EMT who rolled me in, though. I guess he was a rookie and didn’t know exactly what he was doing. The nurse began asking him questions about what they did on the way to the hospital and apparently he didn’t do much of what he should have. She just kept telling him to look at how pale I was (I guess I was pale) and asked him why he didn’t put an IV line in me. He just kept sweating and saying sorry and that he should have thought of that. She asked for his name (which I forget) and told me she would talk to his supervisor (dun dun duuuuun!). She told him, though, that it was really all his supervisor’s fault because the supervisor was in the ambulance, too! After talking with some people, though, it probably is a good thing he didn’t try to stick me with an IV. It probably would have taken him several tries to find a vein!

The staff at the hospital wasn’t nearly as incompetent! I have to say that I was really impressed with the folks at Mills Peninsula Hospital. Everyone was really professional, helpful, and friendly. I think it helped that things didn’t seem too busy, but even still, kudos to them! They were really an awesome team.

There was one awkward moment, though. With the room full of nurses, one of them placed a gown on my bed and asked me to take off all my clothes and put on the robe. I know they were all in the medical profession and probably have seen their share of naked bodies, but I looked around and there must have been six or seven nurses in the room (not a very big room!). Yes, it made for sort of an awkward moment. I quietly asked if there was a private place I could disrobe and she directed me to a bathroom down the hall. I slowly made my way there and got into my gown. After I was all changed, I got back into my bed and she connected the IV and got my pain medication going. That’s when John showed up from getting the rental car.

The next few hours were basically me loving the painkillers and feeling them slowly wear off only to have me ask for another dose. I was actually surprised at how comfortable the bed was, but I was really cold. For some reason, though I am known to be “the heater man,” I was freezing at the hospital. My hands and feet were ice cold and I was shivering. The nurse went to get a blanket for me. I told the nurse that my body was freezing and she looked at me and said, “Really? I don’t feel it.” But she kindly got me a few more blankets. With four blankets on top of me, I finally felt warm and cozy. Those blankets were amazing, by the way. They apparently store them in a heating unit so that when they lay one on you it’s wonderfully warm. During this whole time, I had told John and J.R. to go ahead to Kevin’s mom’s funeral since the alternative was to simply sit and watch me in lie in bed.

When the doctor showed up, he asked me some questions about my pain, and when I had told him I thought it was food poisoning, he seemed to be ok with that diagnosis. The pain wasn’t really localized in any particular area. My whole stomach hurt with a constant pain with no relief. It wasn’t until much later, especially with the help of the painkillers, that I realized the pain really was coming from my lower right side. About 5:00 or 6:00pm, the doctor came in and poked me in the side and I yelped in pain. He told me he didn’t think it was appendicitis at first but that he now thought it probably was and scheduled me for a CT scan.

The CT scan room was amazing! Triage looked like any other hospital from any popular hospital TV show. The CT scan room looked like sickbay from Star Trek! It was all white with lights flashing and glowing all over the room. There were some stairs that led up to a room with a tinted window. I could see that someone was up there, but couldn’t see their face. The scanning machine looked like a giant white donut. I thought they were going to put me in some tube and that I would have to sit there patiently for a long time, but I guess technology has advanced some since those days.

As I lay on the bed, the machine moved me through the “donut hole.” As I passed through, I could see things whirling around the donut very quickly. A robot voice told me several times to breathe, inhale and hold, and breathe normally again. The way the machine worked, I thought they were going to beam me directly to the OR.

After they took pictures of my insides, the doctor came in and confirmed that it was appendicitis. This is when I called John to let him know. The doctors told me they had contacted their surgeon and that as soon as he arrived we would head over to the operating room. John left the funeral after the burial and came to the hospital just before the surgeon arrived. The surgeon was, for lack of a better adjective, “cool.” Although I honestly wasn’t scared about the procedure, he did everything he could to boost my confidence and assure me that things were going to be fine. He told me that the procedure would be routine. It wouldn’t last more than fifteen to twenty minutes. He told me about the incisions he would make and that for the most part he would go through the belly button. I joked that as long as he was in there, he might as well suck out some of the fat. =) I think the last thing he said was the most reassuring. He told me that he chose to work at that particular hospital because the anesthesiologists were the best he could find.

They quickly prepared me for surgery and wheeled me over to the OR. On the way there, the surgeon continued to give me confidence about the procedure. He told me that the day wasn’t very busy at the hospital so that they were able to assemble their “A-Team.” When I got to the room, it was really cool… cooler that the CT scan room! There were these two massive lights hanging from the ceiling. They looked like those old desk lamps with the bendy arms, but much bigger. Each light must have been four to five feet in diameter with dozens of halogen bulbs. They weren’t on, but I imagined how bright they must make the room.

The nurse was crazy. She was so excited to be in the operating room and kept singing about how they were going to take the appendix out. She reminded me of a muppet or Sesame Street character: really bizarre but cheerful. I asked the doctor if he was going to put a mask on me to put me to sleep, but he corrected me and told me the anesthetic would run through my IV. He then said, “It’ll be any minute now…” And that is the last thing I remember about the OR.

It seemed like I was asleep for a long time, but when I woke up, it was only a couple hours later. I was in the recovery room and there were a couple nurses roaming from one bed to another checking on patients. When one of the nurses saw that I was awake, she walked over and said, “This is going to feel weird.” Then she began to pull a tube out of my nose which must have been eight inches long! Yes, it felt weird, but thankfully it didn’t hurt. I asked if I could get back to my room. It was about 9:30pm, and I knew that John and the guys had a flight to catch at 10:30pm. Since the hospital was right next door to the airport, I thought they might still be at the hospital so I wanted to go and check in case they were waiting for me.

Unfortunately, it took a while to get out of the recovery room because they said my room wasn’t ready and was still being cleaned. I later found out that I probably wouldn’t have been able to catch the guys anyway. It was all right, though. I didn’t mind being alone because it added to the adventure and the bizarre events of the day. I flipped on the TV and was thankful that I wasn’t in any pain. In fact, I could get up and out of bed whenever I wanted and could even go to the bathroom on my own.

I was thankful to go to the bathroom. Before surgery, I had asked the surgeon if it was necessary to put in a catheter. He told me the only reason they would have to is if I couldn’t go to the bathroom for over four hours after the surgery. When I first woke up, one of the first things I told the nurse was that I needed to go to the bathroom.

I had heard stories of how people come out of surgery all sore and in pain, but this was a piece of cake. I wasn’t in any pain at all. I walked gingerly because I didn’t want to reopen all my wounds, but it didn’t hurt to move around. I even called Christine and told her to come up to San Francisco so that we could do some sightseeing before heading back down to San Diego.

Little did I know that the only reason I felt so great was because I still had some lingering effects of the anesthetic. When that wore off, I could barely move! It hurt to breathe! They told me I would need to work on my breathing because my lungs would need some exercise, but I really couldn’t take any deep breaths. One time, I tried to get out of bed and because of the pain in my belly I had to hoist myself up using nothing but the strength of my arms. The nurse was there to help me, but it was such exercise that I became fairly winded. Well, I couldn’t breathe deeply because of the pain so I started hyperventilating and eventually passed out at the foot of the bed. I knew I was out for at least a few seconds because when I came to, I was surrounded by nurses who were all trying to get me back into bed properly. They had me in a blanket and six of them were lifting me up to the head of the bed again. I could hear one shouting, “Stay with me, Patrick! Don’t sleep!” I told them I was fine and that I passed out because I couldn’t breathe, but the nurse insisted that I needed a bracelet that read, “Fall Risk.” Hahaha!

The rest of the recovery process was slow. It took me about three weeks to get over the pain. I was thankful that I wasn’t alone in the hospital very long. Kevin Au came by to see me and even brought his dad by the next morning. I was really thankful for that. Wayne and Melanie Hu also came by and dropped off a Batman balloon. =) The best was when Christine finally arrived from San Diego with Eden. It was great to see them again. I can’t imagine what it must have been like for Christine to be in San Diego while I was going in for surgery in San Francisco. I’m so thankful for my loving wife!

There’s more to the story, but this is getting really long. And having read it over, Part 2 doesn’t seem nearly as entertaining as Part 1. Oh well. If you read this far, you are cool. All in all, I was bummed I missed the 10 Year Anniversary Banquet at Lighthouse, but it was still a fun adventure. I’m sure I’ll have a great time telling the story to Eden if ever she needs to have her appendix removed!





Appendect-OH-MY! – Part 1

5 06 2009

PART 1: The Airport

SFO

A few people have been asking me to share my story of what happened in San Francisco this past weekend, so I thought I’d write another one of those blog posts that people could refer to if they were curious about the details. Here’s what happened…

Last Thursday, May 28, Christine and I had dinner at Daphne’s with Alex Ko and Maria Oh just to spend some time together, and for the third time at Daphne’s I got food poisoning…

***A Note about Restaurants and Food Poisoning – I am one who can understand that a restaurant may on occasion make the mistake of serving spoiled food or food that has undergone cross-contamination. No one is perfect. But as a general rule, once I have gotten food poisoning from a place three times, they are banned for life. Besides Daphne’s, Souplantation is my other blacklisted restaurant. Even if these places offered me free meals for the rest of my life, I would not even step foot in their restaurants. Eaters, ye be warned. Now, where was I?…***

I felt pretty bad on Thursday evening, but things got worse on Friday. Sparing you the gross details, let’s just say I spent a lot of time in the restroom. I hardly slept Friday night!

On Saturday morning, Pastor John, J.R., and I were scheduled to fly up to San Francisco to attend Kevin Au’s mom’s funeral. That morning, though I wasn’t feeling well, the pain wasn’t so excruciating that I was willing to miss a flight for it. Besides, I really, really wanted to be there for Kevin. I quickly got ready and met the guys at the church to go to the airport. When I got to the church, I remember telling John, “John, I was this close to calling you and telling you that I wasn’t going to make it.” Honestly, one of the reasons why I got myself out the door was because I had booked the car rental and I didn’t think John and J.R. would have been able to pick up the car without me. Later on, I found out that they could.

When we got on the plane, I was feeling pretty miserable. I was visibly uncomfortable to the point that the lady sitting on the aisle (I was in the window seat) offered to switch places with me. I explained to her that I had food poisoning and she was surprised that I decided to travel anyway. “At least it’s a short flight,” she remarked. That’s when the pilot got on the intercom and told us that we would be experiencing a bit of a delay during taxiing. We sat on the plane for about forty minutes waiting for the ok to take off! At one point, the pilot said that we would need to go back to the gate. I was thrilled because, had we gone back to the gate, I would have requested to get off the plane. Just as I made up my mind to do this, the pilot got back on the intercom and announced that after some negotiating we received the ok to take off in about five minutes. Ugh. At least everyone else was happy. =)

In the air, things got worse. My entire stomach was radiating pain. I spent most of the time in the air at the back of the plane by the restrooms. I told the flight attendants about my food poisoning and asked if they had any crackers to munch on. They told me they hadn’t had food on the plane for a few years now but they gave me all I wanted to drink. They were really nice and one of them even said he would have offered me his own personal stash if it wasn’t against the rules to do so. They carried on with their beverage service and I continued to pace while clutching my stomach.

This is when I recalled my previous experiences with food poisoning and how things always seemed to feel better after vomiting. I wasn’t feeling nauseous, but I decided to make myself purge the impurities anyway. I went into the restroom and was able to successfully force myself to vomit. Unfortunately, the only things to come up were my Pepto Bismol chewables and the glass of water I had just taken before entering. What made things worse, the pain increased tremendously after vomiting! I thought it was supposed to make you feel better!

This is when the pilot announced that we were beginning our descent and that we all needed to take our seats. I got back to my seat, buckled up, and braced myself for the rest of the flight. When we landed and were taxiing to the gate, I told John that I wasn’t going to be able to make the funeral and needed to see a doctor. We got off the plane, I walked to the middle of the terminal, and collapsed on the floor by the center divider.

John went to the gate counter and informed the lady of my condition. She called for help and notified John that there was a medical clinic at the airport. She told me it would be free of charge to visit and that I should probably check it out. I was excited because I always wanted to ride in one of those airport vehicles with the flashing lights and the drivers that scream at people to get out of the way! When help arrived, however, to my dismay, it was just a middle aged man with a wheelchair. He told me to get in because the clinic was on the other side of the airport. I obeyed and he proceeded to push me through several terminals. Along the way, John decided to head over to baggage claim and get his bags. He also wanted to stop by the rental car place to pick up our car. J.R. stayed with me as the gentleman continued to push me for what seemed about a mile. I offered to walk, since I thought it would have been faster, but he insisted so I just sat there.

When we got to the international terminal where the clinic was supposed to be, we were welcomed by construction. Signs were posted all around that the area was closed. Even the elevator that takes you down to the clinic was not functioning. This was when the guy with the wheelchair started to freak out. He started racing up and down the terminal banging on doors and stopping every employee asking about the clinic. No one seemed to know where it was. At this point, I got out of the wheelchair and laid down on the floor. It was really uncomfortable to sit. People walked by as I clutched my side and groaned on the floor. Poor J.R.! He had no idea what to do. He just stood there watching me in pain. I asked him to call John and find out how long it would be before we had a car.

After a few minutes, one of the employees told my wheelchair driver that he had called 911. Soon after, a bicycle policewoman pulled up and asked me how I was doing. She started to get my basic information down and asked for my I.D. A few minutes after that, the EMTs came with their gurney. At first, I denied the ambulance because I figured John would be there soon. But after thinking a bit, as the guys were walking away, I called them to come back. It was sort of exciting because it was my first time in an ambulance. Along the way, the EMT continued to ask me questions and took my vitals. Thankfully the hospital was only a few blocks from the airport.





The Slow Uphill Climb

28 03 2009

rock

Lessons learned this week…

1. Sometimes even when I am trying really hard to do my best, I will fail. But God is gracious to teach me important lessons even in my failure.

2. It is always better to say an encouraging, helpful, uplifting, edifying word than to simply tease people and have fun at their expense.

3. With friends, a quality short conversation is better than hours of time wasted talking about nothing.

4. You never know when someone really needs prayer or encouragement so you should constantly be offering both.

5. God’s blessings sometimes come at the most unexpected times and from the most unexpected people.

6. Inspiration is a cool doctrine.

7. I need to place a constant guard over my mouth. Be slow to speak… slow to speak… slow to speak.

It has been a long and difficult week. But looking back I realize now that it has been a good week. Praise God. You never fail.





Preparing for Ordination

28 01 2009

A lot of people have been asking me, “What is ordination all about?” I thought I could make things a bit easier by posting something on my brain so I could direct people here if they wanted to find out more about ordination.

John MacArthur writes, “Ordination is the act whereby a church officially acknowledges the calling and qualifications of a man for ministry.” That’s basically ordination in a nutshell. At Lighthouse, ordination will involve a really difficult examination of my life, Bible knowledge, and practical understanding of Scripture to prove that I am fit for ministry. This is important because it gives the church more of a chance to prayerfully consider my position as pastor. Remember that the early church spent time in prayer and fasting before it chose its leaders (cf. Acts 14:23). This also gives me a chance to show the church that I am competent to teach and that my views of Scripture are in line with the church’s.

Lighthouse hasn’t necessarily finalized its ordination process, but I am sure it will contain at least an extensive oral examination in which I will be tested in three major areas: general Bible knowledge, systematic theology, and practical theology. In the first section, I will be expected to know the themes and outlines of every book of the Bible. I will also need to know key chapters, verses, people, and dates for each book. In the second section, I will be asked various questions from any facet of systematic theology. The examiners could ask me questions about God, man, salvation, end times, etc. and I would be expected to answer the questions with support from Scripture. I would also have to know about other major world religions and cults and be able to refute their beliefs from Scripture. In the third section, I would be asked any question related to the application of Scripture. These questions might be asked in the form of hypothetical counseling situations. I could be asked about my views of homosexuality, women’s roles, parenting, psychology, etc. and I would be expected to defend my answers from Scripture. The entire exam would most likely be from memory without notes or open Bible (though I might suggest that at least the practical theology section should be open Bible). Basically, I will need to memorize the Bible.

It’s a long process, but I don’t consider it a waste of time. Yes, the church is busy, but this is the kind of study that I think every genuine Christian would die to be a part of. I get to dig into the wealth of Scripture and immerse myself in it for the next several months. There is a bit of apprehension just because I know things will be busy with the church plant, 10 year anniversary, missions, and everything else that’s going on in the church. But I am confident that God will see me through. I appreciate all the prayers that the church family are lifting up on my behalf. In many ways, you will be like Aaron and Hur were to Moses in supporting his arms during Israel’s battle against Amalek (cf. Exod. 17). I am confident that God will grant success through your many prayers.

After serving at LBC for the past ten years, I think it’s about time for my ordination. I knew I didn’t want to get ordained right out of seminary because I wanted at least a few years of ministry experience first. I wanted to be at a place where the church could be confident of my ability as a teacher and could trust my leadership and character. I’m so thankful for a loving church that cares for me and my family. I’m looking forward to being even more cemented into the ministry at Lighthouse through my ordination. Feel free to ask if you have any questions!





Churching in Seattle

5 01 2009

mars-hill-ballardChristine and I decided to visit Mars Hill’s Ballard campus yesterday morning. We had some trouble finding the campus at first (my GPS is crazy), but got there on time since we left really early. Although we were hoping to hear Pastor Mark Driscoll, who was off on vacation (we missed him by a week!), we were not at all disappointed by Tim Smith’s message from Psalm 73. He spoke for over an hour so we felt completely at home, and the message was really, really good (I looked online this morning and they hadn’t posted the sermon). The whole service was pretty impressive with the funky music and the lights. We even got to sit in for their baptism service and took communion there, too. It is a huge church and we had to sit in the back because we didn’t want to disrupt the service with the baby. All in all, it was a really great Sunday. I’d love to go back and visit again. Maybe next time, we’ll get a chance to hear from Driscoll. =)

It was weird not being at Lighthouse. Whenever he goes away, John tells me he thinks about what is going on at LBC. It’s funny that I was doing that, too. I would think, “Oh, they’re probably singing right now,” or “They must have just finished the sermon and Peter’s introducing the hymn.” Although it’s great to get away and get some rest, I miss home. I can’t wait to be back with my church family. I’m sure 2009 will be a busy and tiring year (celebrating 10 years!), but hopefully it will be a good tired at the end of it. I’m so thankful for the church and am blessed that I get to serve together with the family at Lighthouse.





I’m Still Alive!

16 12 2008

I know it’s been a long time since my last post. Since Pastor John has been on medical leave, it has been difficult to update at all with the busier schedule. I’m hoping that in the New Year, I’ll have more regular updates both here and at the church blogsite. I haven’t given up on updating my “brain.” Just took a break from it. In the words of the Govenator, “I’ll be back.”





Happy Birthday Eden!

3 08 2008

An hour after the doctor told us Christine was at 9 cm, it was time to push! We couldn’t believe how fast we got to that point. The nurse came in and prepared the room while she was explaining every little thing she did. The next thing I knew, the nurse was explaining to Christine the directions for pushing the baby out. Pushing actually proved to be a little bit of a challenge since Christine couldn’t feel anything in her legs, but she soon got the hang of it. After only about half an hour of pushing, Eden Cassie came into the world!

Born on August 3, 2008 at 2:04pm, Eden weighed in at 6 lbs. 10 oz. and was 19.5 inches long. She is an absolutely beautiful little girl and is recovering nicely. It all happened so fast I couldn’t really think too much about what was going on while it was happening. I just remember looking over as Christine’s mom was crying. Angella An, who was also in the delivery room, was squealing with excitement. The next thing I knew, I had a daughter! I was actually more concerned about how Christine was doing because the doctor was cleaning her up and getting her stitched. He looked at me and said, “You know, you can go see your daughter.” That’s when the first emotion hit me. I was proud of Christine. I remember just looking at her and feeling so proud that she was able to deliver our baby.

Even now as I am sitting in the recovery room with Christine and Eden both sleeping near me, I can’t really say the emotions have sunk in. It’s weird thinking that the baby’s mine. I keep thinking her parents are going to come soon and pick her up as if I’m just watching her for a while. It’s just awesome to think I’m a dad. It’s even weird to type those words, “I’m a dad.” =)