Post-Op-ing Like a Boss

So here we are, a patched up belly later and some funny adventures from a French hospital. As usual, I’m doing fine; this morning I was begging to be drugged up and would repeat the dosages of medication that my host mom told me but double them under my breath. However, I’m doing better and better and sticking my tongue out and groaning in a sign of distress less often. Good sign!

                  I asked to either get a cool light in the middle of my chest like Iron Man or a sick tattoo while I was knocked out, just to take advantage of the anesthesia, but they said, “non.” (Kiana, Jasmine, Devyn…)

Here’s what actually happened:

                  I went in at 8:45am yesterday morning, got in my stylish hospital outfit, waited with my host mom, and was wheeled into my operating room. But get this: while the four doctors were preparing the room, they were all around me talking about the last episode of House. Like any normal person, I was freaking out inside and said, “hold up, you guys know how stereotypical this is?!” (In French, of course) and they all laughed. Besides having the anesthesiologist peer over my head and say, “mademoiselle!!!” rather comically before putting on the oxygen mask, I don’t remember much.

                  

When I woke up I tried speaking French but rather than my brain not working, my mouth couldn’t actually form the words so after saying two or three things the doctors just smiled and nodded…

My host mom, host dad, and friend, Eamon, an exchange student from Canada, came to visit me and I feel so grateful to have had such good company. In between visits and texts from friends I slept and left at 3pm. The actual act of getting up from the gurney was painful but incredibly weird because I had no abdominal muscles to aid me. The only way I can describe how I felt was a mix between a small child, an old woman, and a robot; so basically, if what I looked like reflected how I felt, I’d be like E.T. (robot, alien, just go with it.)

I also want to let all of you know that the next time you complain of having a bad hair day, just know that there’s nothing worse than surgery hair.

Even though I’ll be missing out on a trip to Cassis, France, the best day at school where everyone dresses up, my friend’s last basketball game, and hanging out with friends, I’m being very well cared for by my host parents and I’m honestly too tired to do much. Almost every time my host mom gets off the phone she tells me that so-and-so wishes me a quick recovery and gave me bisous, especially my buddy, Mario.

Thus concludes my little update and thank you for all the emails and good thoughts!

Bisous,

Maggie

B A R C E L O N A !

Heck yes I randomly asked to go on a school trip to Spain! The best things are planned at a moment’s notice and never give you a chance to second-guess your decision. Although I basically know two things in Spanish, one being muchas the other being gracias, I decided to give it a shot. Not even the words “Spanish host family” could scare me off – I had become the invincible exchange student whose kryptonite was the I Can’t Do It Mentality. So before violins start playing in the background, I’ll give you all some pictures because it would take way too long to explain this trip. Just know it was a good one.

our little pig we placed by monuments 

Sarah and the cutest kitty ever!

starbucks. I miss starbucks.

the incredible market!

Two more quick words:

1.     tomorrow is the surgery and honestly, I am so ready for it to be over with and fixed!

2.     Diatou moved into my house just two days ago and I couldn’t be happier to have her live with my family.

Besos,

Maggie

Surgery - There's no better way to put it.

This “third time’s a charm” system of writing has become somewhat of a crutch for me because this is my third approach of telling you some, how shall I say it, “interesting” news. I call this the blunt methodology, which derives from how exasperated I am that this is actually happening to me on my exchange.

I just went to the hospital to have a consultation with my surgeon who will be operating on me in two weeks, on the 20^th of March. We aren’t exactly sure how it started, but about three or four months ago I noticed I had a bump right above my belly button. Now, keep in mind that this was right around the time the world was supposed to end so there were all kinds of jokes between my host parents and I that there were aliens inside of me. Either that or the live oysters I had eaten were just now wriggling around. However, after a week or so the bump didn’t hurt anymore and we let it be.

Last Thursday night while I was talking to Diatou, my host sister who will be living at my house in a few weeks, I laughed extremely hard to the point where I was crouched down and putting a lot of pressure on my stomach muscles. Boom. The familiar feeling came back and hurt like a bad stomachache. The next morning my host mom, Simone, took me to the doctor’s office and then to get an ultra sound to confirm what was already suspected.

It turns out that there’s a weak part in my abdominal wall and a part of my intestines went through, which is called a hernia (it sounds grosser than it is, but that’s the way it goes). The only way to solve this problem is by way of a quick surgery and since mine is small it will be even easier. I’ve never had surgery before or even been put under for that matter. Adding the fact that it’s in a whole other country to the equation makes it a bit more complicated. The cherry on top is that the day this all happened was my six month anniversary of being in France and being away from my family. That was a bit much to take in all at once but I am so lucky to have wonderful host parents who have taken great care of me.

My parents won’t be coming to visit me as far as I know because, like I said, it’s a small surgery and I won’t be staying the night in the hospital. We will have skype and there’s this wonderful thing they invented called sleep that will keep my mind off of the distance for the most part. Genius.

So to review, the key terms are “minor,” “not overnight,” and “fine” so there’s no need to worry. This is just a part of my exchange, which is honestly just life in another country. There’s no way to prevent things like these no matter how much I would like to change my circumstance but there is a mindset that makes all the difference.

In the meantime I am permitted to go on my Barcelona trip and will return in time to go to a Rotary event. My surgery will be a few days after and I will be at the end of my recovery when I leave for my bus trip in mid-April. See? Not too serious.

Spare good-thoughts are appreciated!

Gros bisous,

Maggie