5/21/09

I'm ALIVE!

I'm BA-ACK!!


You may/may not have heard that my appendix decided to commit suicide and rupture in my precious body.It all started last Monday. I was here at my office on West 22nd st when I started to feel...a bit off. My mind flashed to the day before, which was Mother's Day. "Hmm, what did I eat...what did Kelly eat yesterday?" Many, many things came to mind as I had decided that Mother's Day was my last full day of eating before my crash diet began on Monday. Cold cuts, Peppermint Patties, tuna, Sour Patch kids, old Passover candy I forgot I had bought...the list was long. I tried to stick it out at work for as long as possible, but when I started vomiting in the company restroom, I resigned myself to using a precious sick day. I headed outside where I promptly hailed a cab, hurled in a cab, and was questioned about the possibility of my having swine flu from the driver.

On Tuesday the decision was made to go to the ER. Mother came up to "Spanish Harlem" (or what she calls my Brooklyn enclave. Clearly not Harlem.) and took me to the ER. I had spoken with my doc from NYU. She advised me to head quickly to their famed emergency room. I googled "NYU ER", wrote down the first address that I saw and hightailed it to the east side of Manhattan, clutching a tupperware for puke the whole way.

We pulled up to Bellevue-NYU Hospital. In my drug-addled, dehydrated, hallucinating state, I didn't connect the name Bellevue to the notorious hospital that it was. Big mistake. Once there, I was directed to the pediatrics ER, even as I argued that I was an adult. ("I'm a grown up! A real girl!") But apparently the peds ER is also for "young adults" up to the age of 25. And thank God for that! The scary "adult" ER held all sorts of committed Bellevue prisoners, who were defecating on themselves and slurring at me. After a few hours, I went for a CAT scan down the hall and couldn't help but notice the scan room was right next to the New York City Department of Corrections. They brought a prisoner out and I got so excited. Just like on Law and Order! The prisoner even yelled at me and said "you'll be seeing me on the fucking news tonight." I made a mental note to tune in. He also kept checking out my mom, which made me jealous because I am insane.

To my great dismay, I wasn't able to tune in as it was decided that I indeed had appendicitis. And I spent the next four hours waiting to be taken to surgery. (Apparently gunshots and life-crushing tumors are more important than my suicidal organ.) Right after surgery, I woke up to an extremely high fever and alarms going off. My appendix had actually ruptured and I was in really sick. All I could think was "don't die: you get so many presents in the hospital." This is what I hold on for, people.

After they popped old appy out, I spent the next 6 days in the hospital. I ate Jell-O, accumulated numerous brusies from repeated injections, and learned Bengali from my neighbor (apparently screaming AH-EYYYY! means Get me out of here, I'm dying).

One morning I woke up and a woman in a Saree was staring over my body, attempting to extricate my Blackberry from my cold, dead hands. Now, I didn't really have a TV (It was from circa 1973, and I believe it was the first TV ever created. It also barely worked and you had to pay $5 a day to use it. I love Bellevue.) and my Blackberry was my lifeline. This woman, who I presume was the daughter of my Bangladesh bunkmate, mumbled in incoherently that her phone was broken and she thought she could just "take" mine. Now I'm sorry. But it was the only way I could check Twitter and reasure my tens of followers I was alive. I told her to take a hike and ask the nurse. I would have felt bad, but her mother was a real faker. Crying that much over kidney stones? I've had them. I've seen worse. Grow a pair, Bangla!

Fortunately she was dismissed from the hospital on Saturday, and I was finally allowed to leave on Sunday morning after a week of fevers and way gross stomach stuff. My dad claims that I hallucinated this in my fog of Morphine (I. love. drugs.) but I swear one asked me for a cigarette to sell. I know how things work in prison! I've read the memoirs!

All in all, staying in the hospital pretty much blows. I don't know where I got the romantic idea in my head that it'd be "fun" to stay in the hospital for a few days. It's no Club Med. Sure, I got to miss work. But they woke me up at 6 am anyway to poke at my belly. They also served really questionable food. Their "gourmet" dinner was fake eggplant parm, half cooked noodles, and some green substance that my mother called spinach. I'd have sooner ate one of Bangla's beads (which looked like they were made of pasta. Or her kidney stones.). 

But I had tons of nice visitors who appropriately enough brought gifts. Gen brought a balloon that said "Get Well Grandpa". This entertained her for her visit. And Brenna brought the best gift of all: laughter. When she came in and nearly fainted/threw up at the sight of my needles, I laughed so hard I almost busted my stitches.

As most things are, my hospital stay was a learning experience for me. Here are some things I learned from this latest go around:

1) Do not invite prisoners into your bed, even if they look like a young Montel Williams.
2) Don't mix NyQuil and ExLax.
3) Hospital gowns really do open at the back. Wear your best underwear at all times.
4) Always shower before going to the ER. It may be your last shower for awhile. (My parents can attest to the scent.)
5) Get a Twitter account and make sure everyone knows you're on your deathbed. You will receive a copious amount of gifts.

Thanks to everyone who called/ sent stuff (I especially enjoyed the Pookie books my aunt and uncle sent. Apparently Pookie is a pig, to which I can only say: fitting.)

Till the next time...

BERGIN OUT.

24 comments:

  1. I know you want me to comment as always, however I can't seem to think straight and my stomach hurts from laughing.

    ReplyDelete
  2. This is the most fucking hysterical blog post I have ever read.

    And that's really saying something!

    Glad you're on the mend!

    ReplyDelete
  3. glad you are better!! sorry I didn't come to the hospital but I hate them even though I love you. I would have paid money to see brenna freak out though.

    ReplyDelete
  4. you need an iPhone!

    ridiculous haha

    ReplyDelete
  5. Always finding the silver lining. When you were in there telling me you were seeing prisoners and hearing bangladesh, I didnt have the heart to tell you its because your in bellevue.

    ReplyDelete
  6. Sam and I are sitting here in hysterics. That was the funniest post you've ever had on this blog! Seriously hysterical.

    Love you pookie!

    ReplyDelete
  7. Oh and I hope you kept the bracelet that says "falling risk". You, Gen, and Rachel can share it. After 1 1/2 drinks, all of you have an increased risk of falling and hurting yourselves.

    ReplyDelete
  8. Kelly, I'm glad you survived your stay at Bellevue and hope you're feeling better. I really would have loved to see Brenna faint/puke at the sight of your needles. Hahahaha...

    ReplyDelete
  9. Ummm, you're the only upper middle class suburbanite girl that has access to the best health care in New York City that would find herself in Bellvue. Geez Kel I think you're quest to have street cred has gone too far...lol. Hey at least I have some insight into the hospital Nuri wants to work at once he's a psychologist, lol. Two masochists at Christmas! Family bonding time!

    ReplyDelete
  10. BTW stop making fun of Kristie, biotch!!!!! I know what you've said!!!! And for the record, u don't have a man either. K thanks :)

    ReplyDelete
  11. The girl is a fake-she was at a comedy camp for wayward med-ed execs--the books were from shirl and liz--geeks takes no credit for them. how dare she give pig books to my niece!!

    ReplyDelete
  12. Farting was a key word? Ha the humor has remained in tact which is nice to see. Reminds me of getting back surgery... Love you Bergs, my gifts will come to you soon, when I see you :)

    ReplyDelete
  13. Your favorite readerMay 22, 2009 at 2:45 PM

    As always this blog cracked me up!

    ReplyDelete
  14. glad you're feeling better gramps. Bangla and her kidney stone beads hahaha i peed a little.

    ReplyDelete
  15. AND KRISTIE- LOVE THE FALL RISK IDEA (although come on now, 1 1/2 drinks??) HOPE YOU KEPT THE BRACELET KELLY!

    ReplyDelete
  16. I hope you tagged farting for bangla's son who ripped a nasty one as he walked by us on the way to sit next to bangla as she wailed and moaned in pain.

    ReplyDelete
  17. Yes- 1 1/2 drinks. I've seen it many, many times. I wonder what Kelly's alcohol tolerance will be without her appendix now?

    ReplyDelete
  18. Bangla's son seriously ripped the nastiest fart I have ever smelled! And that is SAYING A LOT. My nostrils are still burning!

    ReplyDelete
  19. I LOLed at this post the most.

    ReplyDelete
  20. this was some good writing and very entertaining. also, i found those pookie books when i was shopping with my parents so i take partial credit :) glad you are better and though you don't have your appendix i'm glad you walked away with your blackberry. love you and miss you!!!!!

    ReplyDelete
  21. LMAO! thanks for the refreshing burst of humor. I am a thyroid cancer patient, which I gather you are as well?

    ReplyDelete
  22. @ Genevieve

    Yup, I HAD thyroid cancer. But the thyroid's gone and so is the cancer, so I'm feeling good these days (wayward appendixes aside).

    ReplyDelete
  23. The writer of www.kelly-bergin.com has written a superior article. I got your point and there is nothing to argue about. It is like the following universal truth that you can not disagree with: In the absence of a mousepad, an LCD screen will serve this purpose I will be back.

    ReplyDelete