Creative Writing

It occurred to me that I haven't done some honest, hard-core creative writing in a while. Mike is afraid that I make him sound like a d-bag in this story. I promise you that my boyfriend is not a d-bag, but he does admit to being a troll. 

And now, I present to you:

The Appendectomy: A Theatrical Production

A short time ago in the land of the Avala, a young couple that plight troth encountered a troubling kismet.  Shortly after sunset, the couple decided to make ham sausage gently encased in croissants, otherwise known as “Pigs-in-a-blanket”.

“Darling, these shall be quite delicious!” Michaelango proclaimed from the room where living occurs.

“Indeed, my love! Though I shall have not more than one, for I am still full from our earlier feast,” replied Alice, who was actually referring to a Wendy’s chicken sandwich she had engulfed earlier.

The couple sat down to play a merry game of pirates featuring Lego toys as characters.

Do not pass judgment on such an activity. (Markus)

Soon, the croissants were golden and lightly crisped. Alice carefully took them out of the oven.

“These. Are. Amazing.” Michaelangelo declared.

“I’m oddly not hungry, but I must give these a try, “Alice said, “Split one?”

The flaky pastry combined with the sweet meat of precious yet poached pigs sent joy and merriment to the surface of Alice’s face.

“Goodness! These are so much better than I had ever dreamed they would be!”

The twosome returned to their virtual pirate activities, while snacking on such a delightful combination of meat and bread.

Sun had long been set, and the couple yawned as more and more pirate gold was collected.

“Darling, I do not feel well.” Alice alleged.

“Neither do I, fair maiden,” replied Michaelangelo, “But that is hardly rare for me.”

Alice went to her chamber concerned, for she was not accustomed to such an ache of the stomach. It felt as though she had eaten too much, but ‘twas only a sandwich and three small piglets!

She sighed, lacking tums in her medicine cabinet, and hoped that sleep would quell the angry beast that had taken residence underneath her navel.  

Writhing into the wee hours of the morning in a restless slumber did no good save for move the angry beast to the right of her small, limber stomach.

Much later, Michaelangelo woke to sunrise and clean pantaloons.

“Good morrow, my love! Dost thou feel like a princess on this fine morning?”

“No, not at all,” said Alice, “Does your stomach still hurt?”

“Not once! I am very tired, though. But I absolutely cannot wait until this fantastical weekend. We can play tennis, and mini-golf and go out to a fine dinner this evening…”

“Will you be home for lunch?” Alice interrupted.

“Aye. I’m off to attend meetings about budget reports and labor rates! Get some rest and feel better, m’lady!” Michaelangelo then got into his Dodge Chariot and rode to the kingdom where employment happens, which is not Savannah where no one, apparently, is employed. Ever.

Meanwhile, Alice curled up under the covers, but she could not get comfortable. She began trembling uncontrollably because she seemed to be cold. She turned up the thermostat to 80, put on a jacket and socks in addition to her sleeping blouse and trousers, and huddled like a stray cat betwixt the covers and pillows of her bedchamber. The quivering continued for one half of the hour, and then she finally slept for another, but still with a pain in her paunch.

Normally Alice would devour a copious breakfast of Bran of Raisin, Rice of Crisp, or Meal of Oat. This morning, however, she did not. Two small strawberry yogurts sufficed, for she did not feel like eating anymore. She feared that the beast in her belly would protest and bring her breakfast to an abrupt and embarrassing end.

She didn’t know what brought the thought of “appendicitis” into her head, but upon Googling the word and its symptoms, she knew that this beast inside of her was no ordinary animal. She then sent for her mother and when reached she inquired, “How do you know if you have appendicitis?”

A brief and tearful conversation with her forebearer made Alice decide that she must go see a doctor immediately!

Michaelangelo returned on his mahogany steed.

“Darling. I think I have appendicitis,” Alice greeted him at the door.

“What? No, dear. I think you are over-reacting. Come lay down with me,” Michaelangelo suggested because he likes to take power naps at lunch.

“But what if I’m under-reacting?” countered Alice, “What if I have to go to the hospital and get it cut out of me? What if I DIE?”

*snore* “You won’t die, silly,” Michaelangelo replied. “It might just be an infection and they will probably just give you some antibiotics. Are you going to let me sleep or what?”

“No because I really hate that alarm when it goes off. “ Alice said.

 It was true. This alarm clock had an innocent exterior, but made a horrible and boisterous sound when the alarm went off.

“I know. That’s why I set it.”

“So you set the alarm because you know when it goes off it will annoy me?” Alice inquired.

Michaelangelo smiled.

“You troll,” Alice sneered.

“Well, let me know what happens when you go see the doctor. I will be in more meetings all afternoon, so you will not be able to contact me by phone. Please send any messages on parchment post-hence through the cyberwebs.”

 And with that, Michaelangelo was off to another exciting afternoon in the world of employment, and kissed and bid Alice farewell at the threshold.

Alice traversed to a deceptive little shop called “Urgent Care.” After filling out paperwork and doubled over in pain, she paid the nurse to call the “doctor” into say, “There’s nothing we can do for you here. You need to go to the emergency room. It could be appendicitis or an ovarian cyst.” 

The place was highly deceptive because it was neither “urgent,” nor was it much “care”.  Additionally, the scale said that Alice weighed 119 pounds, a number far too great to be true.

Weeping uncontrollably, Alice returned to Avala to find directions to the hospital. Like so many times before, she wished she had a Phone of lowercase “i” so that she could email dear Michaelangelo to inform him of all of her miserable trials and so that she could use the navigation built into the extremely useful device to find the hospital so as to evade near and certain death.

She then set out on her voyage to the room of emergency. She cried bitterly; mostly because of the pain, partly for being so lonesome in such pain and partly because of that scene in the Fox and the Hound where the old lady has to leave the fox behind in the forest and he is so alone and because that is a REALLY SAD PART OF THAT MOVIE.

At last, Alice arrived, and the nurse hastened to taketh her temperature. Alas! One hundred it was, a furious fever was still at hand. She was rushed into an adjacent room where personal and slightly intrusive questions were asked. Soon, she was taken into room 14 and told to give a sample of a golden shower. Cleverly hiding the specimen in her jacket, Alice was certain to avoid the “walk of shame” down the hallway. She still had her wits about her in the crowded and bustling hospital.

Erik joined Alice in room 14 and asked her strange questions about her religion and if she had a will or not. It was only then did it really occur to her that she could actually die that day. She did not fear death, though; she only feared a future without Michaelangelo.

She sent him a grim parchmental text: “I’m in the ER at St. Joseph’s in Savannah. It’s not looking good.”

Suddenly, Alice was booted from room 14 for a hollering elderly woman who had just recently broken her neck. Alice was summoned to a small bed in the corridor where her blood was drawn in front of God and the hospital audience (everyone).

The doctor inquired, “Do you giveth thine blood to others?”

Alice replied, “No.”

“You should!” the doctor replied, “Your veins have great blood-giving potential!”

“Good to know, “Alice awkwardly replied. The doctor explained how nurses normally draw blood, but all of them were summoned to the other side of the hospital so they were low on staff and, in short, there were people more important than Alice’s condition was.

A fellow from the Far East was called to provide Alice with unknown pain-relieving substances. They made her throat and head feel bizarre, and she felt very weak and tired. She then lay down, in front of God and everyone, on the bed in the middle of the hospital corridor. Later, she was instructed to drink a beverage from a beaker that tasted like apple juice, tonic, and terror.  This would make the CT scan clearer to determine what kind of beast was eating Alice from the inside out.

“You do not need to guzzle it,” instructed the man from the Far East. He smelled like smoke. Alice always finds it ironic when people who work in places of healing smoke and do detrimental things to their bodies. But such is life.

And guzzled it she did. Alice wanted nothing more than to be free of the hospital and pain, and if drinking the terror cider would speed the process, then she was well on her way to recovery. Finally, she was moved out of the busy corridor into room 15 where she fell into a drugged and hazy stupor.

“She’s in here?” said a muffled voice outside of room 15.

“Yes,” said a voice farther away.

The door opened, and Michaelangelo strode into see his dear paramour dozing on the bed.

“Michael! You came!” Alice joyfully cried and embraced Michaelangelo with her weak arms.

“Of course I came! And I brought you Pandy…and a blanket…and I left the laptopbag in the car. But I put the pirate movies on there and other movies that we can watch later…”

“You are by far the best boyfriend evarrrrr!!!!!!!!” Alice proclaimed, “And I’m on drugs.”

“I see,” observed Michaelangelo.

Now that her pain and loneliness issues had been calmed for the time being, the only thing Alice had left to cry about was the scene from the Fox and the Hound. But she did not do that. She was for once happy that day, and with Michaelangelo by her side, she felt like everything was going to be okay.

And it was.

Eventually.

There was still a quarrelling beast within that had only been stunned by drugs circulating Alice’s bloodstream. The doctor came in to prepare Alice to do the CT scan, and everything went as it should.

Outside in the hallway, waiting for “transport”, Michaelango stood by Alice’s bedside and stroked her long, beautiful, blonde hair.

“Look! It’s Nuclear Medicine!” Alice pointed to a sign near a doorway. “Is this Resident Evil?”

“Well, your name is Alice…”Michaelangelo noted.

Back in room 15, the pain returned and Alice thrashed in and out of sleep. Michaelangelo entertained his phone and comforted Alice as they waited on the CT readings from the surgeon.

Hours later, the surgeon arrived. There appeared to be minor swelling in Alice’s appendix, so it was the onset of acute appendicitis. But there was nothing cute about the pain through which Alice was going. They agreed to remove the beastie through a laparoscopic procedure, using three small incisions instead of one large gash.  

This was Alice’s first time being a patient in the hospital since birth, and it was certainly her first surgery. She was not scared, though. She was brave as they asked her more personal questions and asked her to disrobe and be clothed in a backless, bloomy, pillowcase with armholes.

“I am so glad you’re here!” she whispered to Michaelangelo.

“I love you so much,” Michaelangelo whispered back.

The friendly staff then donned Alice with a blue cap and wheeled her into the surgical suite. The last thing she remembered was being slid onto a different bed in the room.

Alice awoke to a plastic tube itching her nose. She removed it.

“Oxygen” they said.

But there was no air coming out of it. There were so many wires connected to her, and she was in the far corner of the surgical room. She requested water and they gave her ice chips, which she supposed was better than nothing.  

She asked about dear Michaelangelo, but the women could not tell her his whereabouts. She assumed that he went home and would be back in the morning. She drifted in and out of sleep and was finally placed in a dark room at 2 am.

“I MUST CALL MIKE” she decided when she awoke and demanded the nurse show her how to use the phone. She then proceeded to leave eight messages on Michaelangelo’s phone about how bad she wanted cheeseburgers and popcorn and water. At four in the morning, a nurse came in to take vital signs. Alice’s fever was gone, and so was her appendix.

At 7:30 in the morning, a nurse brought her a tray with coffee, chicken broth, jello, apple juice, and Italian ice. A strict clear-liquid diet. She attempted to call Michaelangelo, but he still couldst not be reached.

Just when she was getting bored, Michaelangelo busted through the door, wearing the same clothes as he did yesterday.

“You didn’t go home?” Alice asked him.

“No! I slept in my car. They never called me back like they said they would when you got out of surgery. I wanted to be here. I missed you!!” he replied.

“And I missed YOU!” she said and attempted to reach for him but the pain of reaching reminded her that she had stiches in her side. She looked at her stomach; there were three shallow gashes. The one near her navel was the largest and deepest. Her skin was orange from iodine, and the wounds had a clear glue over the incisions. It was apparent that the beast had tried to climb its way out of her. Or, she reconciled, that’s how a laparoscopic appendectomy is done.

“I really want to watch the second pirates movie," she confided in Michaelangelo.

“Consider it done, my love,” Michaelangelo replied and set up the technology to make his princess’s wish come true.

A few hours later, the nurse announced that Alice could go home that morning.

“Can I keep this mug?” she asked the nurse.

“Yes, and you may also have the box of tissues,” the nurse offered.

Alice declined though. She knew there would be no sadness today.

“A giant mug for an appendix?” quipped Michaelangelo, “that’s a fair trade!”

She had to perambulate slowly so as to not stretch the stiches, but Alice strode out of the hospital not even twelve hours after her surgery.

Michaelangelo then drove Alice to the apothecary in his Dodge Chariot, and she acquired drugs of the Percocet and hell-ish sort. She lulled about that weekend in recovery, but she had survived and was determined to make physical progress every day in terms of bending over and walking.  

The appendectomy was a painful episode, but Alice resolved that it was an experience she would never have to repeat. After all, you can’t have appendicitis if you don’t have an appendix.

And Michaelangelo and Alice lived happily ever after.

~TWS