What Stace had to say on Tuesday, November 29th, 2011
Well…that sucked


What Happened When My Intestine Exploded

First, of course, I have to say a huge enormous Thank You!!! to all of you. Your emails and comments, your cards and letters and packages, were just incredible; you have no idea how much they meant to me and how much I appreciated them. Really, thank you so much. I haven’t replied individually yet–I’m still trying to get back on my feet a bit, and I came back to over a thousand emails–but I will. In the meantime, please accept my enormous gratitude. It was and is really incredible to see how many people actually care.

So, what happened? I’ll tell you what happened. This story gets a bit icky, guys, just as a word of warning.

I woke up in the wee hours of the morning on Tuesday, October 26th, with the most incredible pain in my abdomen. It felt–to be rather crude, sorry–like the worst gas ever, moving all around my abdomen, not localized in one place. Just this horrible stabbing pain. It was hard to walk, it hurt so bad. It was hard to lift things, it hurt so bad. It was hard to drive, it hurt so bad. I drove to the pharmacy to buy some sort of gas-relieving medication, and the woman there seemed to think something was terribly wrong with me, I thought from the way I appeared in obvious pain but I was told later that I was so dehydrated I looked like a skeleton.

Anyway. Wednesday I was supposed to drive to the Southwest to look for a new home near Mr. K’s work. But I was still in horrible pain, so I canceled. This worried Mr. K so much that he left work and drove the several hours back here, insisting that I go to the hospital. I didn’t think it was that necessary but I was starting to worry a bit, yeah, so I finally agreed.

We reached the ER (or A&E as they call it here) at Lister Hospital at around 3 pm. They saw me right away. They palpated my abdomen which hurt a ton, even after giving me oral morphine. They put me in a gown and sent me to be X-Rayed–at this point it was probably about 5, given the time to wait for the X-Ray and talking to the docs etc. etc. We waited for the X-Rays to come back and the blood tests (and man, my veins are hard to find anyway, when I’m dehydrated it’s almost impossible, so that was NOT pleasant and would only get worse).

That’s when the fun happened. All of the sudden I was taken into this other room, and greeted by about seven surgeons, who informed me that my X-Ray had shown air under my diaphragm, which indicated a hole in my intestine. An ulcer which had eaten all the way through, to be more exact. Apparently this is very serious and can be fatal thanks to dehydration and peritonitis and such–who knew?–and I’d already delayed longer than I should have, so the surgeons bumped their other surgeries so I could be the very first one in when the OR opened at 7 pm. The head surgeon said, “This is major surgery, so whatever else happens, you are going to be one very sick young lady for the next two weeks at least.” Yay me!

So into the OR I went. I remember being told I’d probably feel a little dizzy, and the next thing I remember is seeing Mr. K. telling me it was all over and I was fine, and then I was in this special intensive post-op care unit. I spent five days there, mostly sleeping and pressing the little button that would give me more morphine. I had a gnarly row of staples down the middle of my stomach and tubes poking out of me everywhere: my nose, my stomach, a catheter (of course), and a bunch of IVs and lines in my neck and hands/wrists. They were also coming to take blood just about every day. LOTS of needle sticks.

I was in the special post-op ward for five days. It was generally nice and quiet, except for the night we had a woman in there moaning constantly and asking the nurses–in the middle of the night, mind–why they wanted to kill her. Oh, and there was the older gentleman who was very angry a lot of the time; when the phone rang he’d become enraged and shout that they shouldn’t answer it, or if they did to “Tell them I’m not here! Tell them I’m still in hospital!” To which the nurses would ask if he knew where he was, that he was in fact still in hospital, and that they had to answer the phone because it was the hospital’s phone.

But anyway. On the fifth day they moved me into another post-surgery ward, where we weren’t monitored quite as closely. Because the ward was full of men I actually got a private room, since I am not a man and rules say a lone woman can’t be put in a ward full of men. That was nice, the private room, but let me clarify something for my American friends, since those I spoke to on the phone were utterly shocked by this (and to be fair, so was I, a bit). I had a private room, yes. I did not have a private bathroom; I used a commode (basically an adult potty seat the nurses would wheel in) or, once I was able to walk, the public bathroom in the hall which all the patients and visitors used. (Yes, very sanitary, I know.) I did not have a TV in my room, or a phone. I was not permitted to plug in my computer or cellphone, so I wasn’t able to use the internet at all or really get any work done–not that I was up to working, but still. Stephen had to charge stuff for me at home and bring it in, and the hospital didn’t want me to keep valuables in my room anyway, so generally he’d bring my laptop and a DVD and we’d watch it until they made him leave. All I did for most of the time was sleep, stare into space, or look at magazines, since I didn’t feel up to getting involved in a book (which should tell you how bad I felt).

So. On Wednesday 2nd November, one week after the initial surgery, I woke up around 2 am and noticed my stomach felt a bit wet. It felt wet because it was wet, with blood.

Not a lot, but enough, and it worried me (obviously) so I called the nurse. She didn’t appear too concerned, since it was kind of watery blood, so she said she’d check on me in a bit and we’d see.

Half an hour later the blood was no longer watery and I was in PAIN. Real awful grinding pain along my incision, especially at the very bottom and the top inch or two. The nurse came back in and called the surgical resident. He looked at it and called another surgeon, whose title I forget but he wasn’t a resident anymore, basically. The left side of my incision was kind of puffy and higher than the right, and it was decided that I had a couple of big hematomas under there and maybe they could clip a staple or two and fix the problem (meanwhile, the surgeon poked a Q-tip around inside the incision, which wasn’t fun).

So the nurse clipped one of the staples near the bottom of the incision, and blood shot like four feet. But the pain there disappeared almost instantly. Yay! Too bad the same did not happen with the top of the incision; she clipped a few staples but no relief, and it still hurt like fuck. So she basically wrapped my stomach in plastic to keep the blood from getting on the sheets etc.–somewhere in there she changed my gown and sheets because of all the blood already there–upped my morphine, and left me to try to rest. It was a pretty scary night, to be honest.

The really fun bit came in the morning when the nurse removed the plastic. We heard–I am dead serious–the “bloorp” sound a drain makes when it’s coming unclogged, and I looked down to see my entire stomach covered in blood. Not just covered: submerged. My stomach was a lake of blood. It was all over the sheets and everything; the bed looked like an abattoir. The surgeons came and informed me that I’d be going back into surgery so they could clean out the hematoma as soon as the OR was ready, and that’s what happened. This time they stitched me up, thankfully, and put on a pressure bandage to prevent further clotting. (They also transfused me with 4 pints of blood. Yes, you read that right. I required 4 pints from all the blood I’d lost in the night and during that second surgery itself. So, you know, donate blood, y’all. It’s important.)

Recovery from that point moved along at a slow but okay pace. The biggest problems were 1) that I was almost out of veins, and they’d start a line and it would blow within a day or so, or once even a couple of hours; and 2) I was supposed to be eating but everything tasted awful and I had very little appetite.

I wanted to come home, and they finally let me on November 8th. I was still in pain from the incision (and they sent me home with paracetemol–Tylenol, basically–and a few codeine tablets. Whoopee, that’s pain relief. Except it isn’t at all. Sheesh) and food still tasted awful but I’d lost my private room and the hospital was starting to drive me crazy. See, being on the ward is LOUD. You’re only separated from numerous other people by curtains. You have no control over your curtains either, so you have no privacy during the day; everyone can see you all the time. At night the other patients snore and talk in their sleep and you have no way to block the sound. Plus the nurses etc. who try to be quiet but you still hear them. It’s hellish, really. Oh, and don’t get me started on their insistence that we “have a wash” which is basically just wiping ourselves down with soaking wet baby wipes–which does NOTHING–or the “shower” in which you sit on the potty seat and they hose you down. It’s like being deloused and again, does not leave you feeling clean in the slightest, plus since it’s November and there are open windows on the ward you end up very cold indeed. But they get very grumpy if you try to refuse.

I still felt lousy at home though, tired and dragged out and depressed as hell, and food tasted awful; it was getting worse and worse. The ulcer medication they had me on (which is Prilosec in the US) gave me stabbing pains in my stomach and made me nauseated. I finally read the leaflet and found that almost all of my awful feelings were side effects of the med, including–surprise!–“taste disorders,” which might explain why even things I liked to eat tasted like damp or rancid cardboard.

So I figured, I’ll call and ask if they can give me something else. But before I could I started throwing up. A lot. So much that Mr. K insisted on taking me back to Lister. That was on Thursday night, 14th November. They switched my medication to Ranitidine (Zantac in the US), after telling me how surprised they were because Omeprazole is so well-tolerated by everyone they don’t even stock other meds in the ER and everyone loves Omeprazole and what is the matter with me. I guess I’m just lucky. I was also lucky in that I got to stay at the hospital until Saturday! Yay, because I wanted more hospital time.

The good thing is, I started reading SHOGUN on the Friday–they showed the miniseries here a few months back, and Mr. K and I watched it (well, he watched it, I half-watched it) so I’d bought him the book, and there I was in the hospital with nothing to read and all of my books still packed away in the US, so I told him to bring me that one. And I’ve gotten pretty involved in it, and am now almost done. So I give SHOGUN a thumbs-up.

Anyway. I had to go back to the hospital again last Monday because I was out of pain meds and because I was having a couple of kind of odd symptoms and we wanted to make sure I wasn’t heading down a bad road with the new medicine. I wasn’t. And I’m slowly getting strong again and feeling up to doing things like sitting up and typing and all of that, which is good because I have a lot of work to do. A LOT. This really couldn’t have happened at a worse time.

Oh, and I had the stitches taken out last week, and that was an awful experience because seriously, the sutures they used were like tennis-racket-string thick, and tied very tightly. Also, they don’t usually use scissors to cut sutures here, they use this little scythe thing, which was simply not working for these; the nurse was sawing away and it hurt and I finally asked if she couldn’t please use scissors. Then some of the stitches were so tight we thought at one point I was going to have to come back when the doctor was there and maybe give me a local and actually cut me to get the stitches out, but luckily between me, Mr. K., and the nurse, we managed to push and pull and manipulate my skin and the stitches enough to cut them all out (at one point Mr. K. actually untied one of the stitches using two pairs of pliers and a needle). So that was pretty sucky, but it feels nice to not have those awful needle-like things poking at me or sticking out through my t-shirt or whatever.

So, this is a very long entry, but I wanted to let you guys know what happened and why I was gone for so long; it wasn’t just the hole in my intestine, it was the hematomas and the adverse reaction to the medicine and the difficulty eating for so long and all of that. I’m down under 100 lbs at this point and even I’m a bit nervous about how thin I am, but luckily food tastes normal again so hopefully I’ll start putting weight on soon.

I’m not sure when I’ll be back full-time, as it were, because I do have a lot of work to catch up on. And I do have a lot of emails to reply to. But I’m trying! And hopefully I’ll be around a little more every day.

And again, I really can’t thank you all enough for your messages. Each and every one of them meant and means so much to me, I really appreciate them and can’t thank you enough.

66 comments to “Well…that sucked”

  1. Cynthia Garner
    · November 29th, 2011 at 6:55 am · Link

    I’m so glad to hear you’re starting to feel a bit more normal. *hugs* Wishing you a speedy recovery without any more complications.

    • Shannon
      · December 26th, 2011 at 6:16 pm · Link

      Awwww Sweets, Im so glad you are on the mend, what a scary scary thing….

  2. ZombieJoe
    · November 29th, 2011 at 7:00 am · Link

    Holy hell! The one I had was caught before it burned through. (Internal bleeding dropped my H&H enough I passed out from the blood loss.) I had a non-surgical 3 day ICU stay. I did the Prilosec dance for over a year too. Minus the side effects.

    Glad to see you’re on the mend. No crazy Cajun or Thai food for a while. πŸ˜‰

  3. Marie
    · November 29th, 2011 at 7:01 am · Link

    Oh gosh, Stacia… I’m so sorry you had to go through all that, and SO glad you’re on the mend!! I don’t even know what else to say, after reading about all of it… Hopefully you’ll be able to, at least, use it in a story, somewhere. πŸ˜‰

  4. Shiloh Walker
    · November 29th, 2011 at 7:15 am · Link

    Yikes… what an ordeal! I’m glad you’re home and hopefully you can start feeling better. Miss seeing you around.

    And I now know that I don’t want to get sick if I’m ever over there. 😯

  5. Jamie
    · November 29th, 2011 at 7:17 am · Link

    So glad to hear you’re doing better. Best wishes for a continued recovery

  6. Christine d'Abo
    · November 29th, 2011 at 7:27 am · Link

    OMG hon I had no idea you’d been that sick! HUGS!!!

  7. Marley
    · November 29th, 2011 at 8:16 am · Link

    Thank god!
    When I started reading it I was SO worried – almost the exact same thing happened to the boyfriend two years ago and they said if he was a couple of hours later, he would have died. So wow, lucky lady!
    So glad you’re feeling better, hope recovery goes well! Just take it easy :) x

  8. Ljilja
    · November 29th, 2011 at 8:59 am · Link

    I’m glad you are feeling better now….

  9. Michelle Rowen
    · November 29th, 2011 at 9:12 am · Link

    OMG Stacia!!! I had no idea it was so bad for you. 😯 This sounds absolutely horrible! I’m so sorry for all you’ve been through, but I’m glad you’re getting better. I wish you a speedy and pleasant recovery from here on. Hugs to you!!!

  10. Leah
    · November 29th, 2011 at 9:13 am · Link

    Sorry for your ordeal, and so glad you’re getting better. Take things as slowing as you can and give yourself the time you need to heal.

    Hope you’re feeling 100% soon!

  11. Fae Sutherland
    · November 29th, 2011 at 9:57 am · Link

    Good gods, that’s a dreadful tale, bb! I’m so glad you’re on the mend, I can’t even imagine. *hugs gently* I’ve missed you terribly.

  12. Barb Moermond
    · November 29th, 2011 at 10:02 am · Link

    I am soooooooo happy you’re doing better!! What an ordeal to have to go through. Rest, drink more water and let Mr K take care of you.

  13. Qwill
    · November 29th, 2011 at 11:35 am · Link

    HUGS, well gentle hugs. Went through something very similar in the late 80s. It’s awful. Hope that you have no more bumps in the recovery road.

  14. Nicole Peeler
    · November 29th, 2011 at 11:48 am · Link

    So glad to hear you’re on the mend! What a harrowing experience. *hugs*

  15. Amy Ashley
    · November 29th, 2011 at 11:50 am · Link

    SO, so glad to hear that you are home and recovering! I’ve been worried about you! Keep resting and eating. Take care of yourself!


  16. BernardL
    · November 29th, 2011 at 11:54 am · Link

    Stace, you almost ended up in ‘City of Ghosts’. Peritonitis is deadly. Your account of the hospital stay and complications is as gripping and horrific as any Stephen King novel. I hope you can get your weight up soon and that’s the last hospital stay you ever have. Take care, my friend.

  17. KB Alan
    · November 29th, 2011 at 12:37 pm · Link

    Wow! You don’t do anything by halves, do you?! I’m so glad your home and doing better. *hugs*

  18. Richard
    · November 29th, 2011 at 12:41 pm · Link

    Hi Stace, bloody hell the whole ordeal sounds horrendous, you poor thing, hopefully you will make a full and speedy recovery!
    A big hug from here!

  19. Ann Aguirre
    · November 29th, 2011 at 1:41 pm · Link

    OMG, so scary. You have my sympathies and all wishes for a fast recovery.

  20. Randi Rousseau
    · November 29th, 2011 at 1:54 pm · Link

    Sincerely hoping you feel MUCH better very soon! How perfectly HORRIBLE an experience. And Bless Mr. K for being willing to muck about in stitches…. plenty of wonderful men are squeamish – you got a terrific one!

    Warm wishes and healing thoughts your way!


  21. Miss Bliss
    · November 29th, 2011 at 2:27 pm · Link

    Holy cow! My Dad had a very similar experience when I was in high school and he was in law school, including the post surgical secondary emergency (his was a couple of bleeding ulcers in his stomach). I’m so glad to hear that you are on the mend and the one fun thing about being underweight is you get to eat anything you want…so bring on the milkshakes and pie!

  22. Gabryyl
    · November 29th, 2011 at 2:29 pm · Link

    Ouch! Glad your back. Tell Mr. K to buy lots of ice cream…fatten you up in no time.

  23. Claire Gillian
    · November 29th, 2011 at 2:44 pm · Link

    Well that was a horrific story. I’m so glad you’re mending and are on the upswing from it. I kept seeing your husband’s updates (who incidentally is a huge, wonderful hero in your story!!) and getting more and more worried for you.

    Now… Recovery and family first, work second. We aren’t going anywhere.

  24. KB/KT Grant
    · November 29th, 2011 at 2:58 pm · Link

    Major Hugs Stacia! You were in my thoughts.

    I’m so glad you are on the mend!

  25. Chelsea / Vampire Book Club
    · November 29th, 2011 at 3:47 pm · Link

    Oh, Stacia! Why can things never be simple? πŸ˜‰

    So sorry you had to endure one nasty thing after another, but happy you’re finally starting to feel better.

    And if it makes you feel better, I’m one of those people has wonky side effects to medicines EVERYONE handles so well. You’re not alone there.

    *big hugs*

  26. Lesley
    · November 29th, 2011 at 4:49 pm · Link

    Glad to hear you are (kind of) on the mend.

    That NHS experience sounds horrific but it’s sadly the norm to be stuck with crappy food and shouty barmy fellow patients.

    Rest up:)

  27. Sara
    · November 29th, 2011 at 4:59 pm · Link

    Yikes. So glad you’re home and on the mend. Get better soon!

  28. Seeley deBorn
    · November 29th, 2011 at 5:01 pm · Link


  29. jeanne Stein
    · November 29th, 2011 at 5:12 pm · Link

    Oh Stacia– so glad you’re home and on the mend. Take care of yourself! We missed you at the League.

    XOXOXO Jeanne

  30. Karen
    · November 29th, 2011 at 5:13 pm · Link

    Oh good God! So glad you’re on the mend now. I think we here in the states take for granted our hospitals & their staff. I’ve seen the care patients get in Canada and it was a real eye opener.

    A (sort of) funny story … My mother had a horrible reaction to morphine. She’d had surgery for stage 3 colon cancer & that’s what they gave her. My father got a call from the hospital at 2am asking him to get in there. Apparently, she’d attacked a nurse who was attempting to adjust her IV, ripped her IV out and was in the hallway screaming and waving a pole at the staff. She thought (and I kid you not) that they were evil clowns (yes, I said clowns) who were trying to kill her. Its funny now. (She’s 7 years cancer free.) It wasn’t so funny for the staff & my dad at the time, tho. (He did manage to convince her to get back in bed & they administered something to knock her out.)

  31. Jesi O'Connell
    · November 29th, 2011 at 5:16 pm · Link

    Wow… what a crazily unfun experience you had. Much mending to you. Yes to rest, rest, rest, and plenty of good food to get your weight back up! You are lucky indeed. Clearly, you have much writing left in your life to do since you stuck around. :) But get all better first.

  32. Susan Saxx
    · November 29th, 2011 at 5:22 pm · Link

    Omgosh, Stacia! What an experience. I’m SO glad you’re on the mend and I wish you lots of rest, enjoyment in the daily stuff you (slowly!:) ) get caught up on, and healing.


  33. Victoria Strauss
    · November 29th, 2011 at 5:30 pm · Link

    Omeprazole is a horrible drug. I was on it by prescription for a year for gastric reflux–6 months because the doctor ordered it, six months tapering off. I didn’t have any side effects, and it cured my reflux–but during the time I was on it, I began reading the increasingly bad news about it: long term use increases the incidence of fracture, can result in magnesium and vitamin B deficiency (since it turns off your stomach acid), and can make you more susceptible to food poisoning and some kind of horrible intestinal infection whose name I’ve forgotten–especially if you take Omeprazole in hospital, which many people do, to counteract the effect of NSAIDs.

    So I decided to get off it. My doc really didn’t want me to get off it–when they put you on it, they kind of expect you to use it indefinitely–but he was nice enough to tell me that you couldn’t just stop, especially if you were taking a high dose, as I was–you have to taper off, or else you can get rebound acid symptoms.

    He wasn’t kidding. I had rebound acid that felt like rats eating my stomach. It was horrible, but life on Omeprazole was more horrifying, so I stuck it out, and now I’m Omeprazole-free, thank goodness. I do still have some reflux problems, but they’re manageable by other means.

    Anyway–what an ordeal you’ve been through. I’m so glad you’re on the road to recovery. Hope things keep getting better!

  34. Brenda Hyde
    · November 29th, 2011 at 6:07 pm · Link

    Wow, no wonder you couldn’t get online. I was okay reading what you went through until the second thing with the blood. OMG Stacia–that is like a horror movie–crazy patients, buckets of blood– NO television, OR internet. Seriously, you did so much better than I would have under those circumstances. Hospitals here are like hotels compared to that! YIKES.

    I hope you can stay home now, and heal up without having to go back in to the hospital. {{{{HUGS}}}

  35. Liza
    · November 29th, 2011 at 6:29 pm · Link

    Sending you gentle hugs. Hope you get to continue healing at home. Your hospital stay sounds a little bit like hell on earth.

  36. Geekamicus
    · November 29th, 2011 at 7:48 pm · Link

    OMG what an awful experience. Wards totally suck (someday I’ll tell you about my roomie Sister Martha, an altzheimer’s patient with an aversion to catheters). I’m glad you’re finally starting to mend and I hope you don’t continue the one step forward, two steps back dance you’ve been doing. Forward, only forward.

  37. Hillary
    · November 29th, 2011 at 10:15 pm · Link

    Holy crap!

    So, so glad you made it through that string of messes, and hope you steadily improve. Hugs to you – and your husband, who sounds like a freaking hero.

  38. Amanda
    · November 30th, 2011 at 12:49 am · Link

    OMG! I’m so sorry you went through that!

    So glad you’re getting better and hope that all is good as new as soon as possible *hugs*

  39. Tyhitia
    · November 30th, 2011 at 1:02 am · Link

    Wow. 😯 I’m glad you’re doing better. I was worried. I tried to get in touch with Shannan to find out how you were doing, but I know she’s on a hectic schedule and everything’s been so hectic here as well.

    Hope to hear form you soon. πŸ˜‰

  40. Tamlyn
    · November 30th, 2011 at 1:57 am · Link

    Eep. Very scary. Glad you’re doing better, and good luck with the rest of your recovery.

  41. Anaquana
    · November 30th, 2011 at 10:15 am · Link

    Wow… that sounds horrible and icky. I’m sorry you had to go through all that. :(

    But, I’m so glad you’re doing better. And many thanks to your husband for keeping us all up-to-date on your condition.


  42. Carol M.
    · November 30th, 2011 at 12:14 pm · Link

    So glad you’re on the mend after such a scary and unpleasant experience, Stacia. Rest up! :smile:

  43. Liz Maverick
    · November 30th, 2011 at 1:28 pm · Link

    Holy shit! All I can say is that I’m glad you can actually read all of these comments. Means you’re still in the land of the living. Here’s hoping for a swift recovery from the so-called recovery. At least you can eat as many Malteasers as you’ve ever wanted.



  44. Astronomer
    · November 30th, 2011 at 9:31 pm · Link

    That’s not something I’d wish on my worst enemy. I’m so glad you’re still among the living.

  45. Alan Morgan
    · November 30th, 2011 at 10:01 pm · Link

    *gentle hugs*

    So glad you’re feeling better, we were all worried about you!

    *hugs again*

  46. Greta
    · December 1st, 2011 at 6:26 am · Link

    Well…. I’m so happy that you’re finally on the mend. That whole experience sounds horrible. The hospital room & bathroom experience sound like a nightmare. I hope you continue to heal and get healthy. It was nice that Mr. K was able to keep us informed and I hope he’s doing well now that you’re home again.

  47. Tina R.
    · December 1st, 2011 at 12:48 pm · Link

    Glad you are on the mend! Thumbs up to Mr. K for getting you to the hospital in time and dealing with all the everyday things that probably came up while you were in hospital hell.

  48. Gwen
    · December 1st, 2011 at 4:37 pm · Link

    Hey you got mentioned-

    The Moans and the Fury: Our Favorite Angry Sex Scenes
    I hope you are feeling better!

  49. Hayley
    · December 3rd, 2011 at 6:28 am · Link

    Our hospitals can’t be that bad, you are still alive

  50. Yodamom
    · December 3rd, 2011 at 5:10 pm · Link

    😯 We duble dang that was B.A.D. :mrgreen: My stomach hurt reading what you lived through. I am so happy that you made it and on the mend. Need better drugs πŸ˜‰

  51. Cheryl
    · December 4th, 2011 at 11:58 am · Link

    Soooo glad you are finally healing. Take it easy and eat some yummy black pudding – that’ll put some weight on ya! πŸ˜‰

  52. Eve Silver
    · December 5th, 2011 at 7:17 am · Link

    Stacia, sending you good thoughts to speed your recovery. You’ve pretty much been to hell and back. I’m very glad to hear you’re on the mend now.

  53. Monica
    · December 5th, 2011 at 10:44 am · Link

    Your writing is awesome here too. I felt your pain. I could see the blood. Guts too.

    Sucks it had to be your blood and guts. Get well soon.

  54. Steph from fangswandsandfairydust.com
    · December 6th, 2011 at 1:49 pm · Link

    It sounds like your surgery should have come with a warning like they put on meds here: This surgery may save your life, but the aftereffects might kill you anyway. Four pints is a lot to lose about half of what you have.
    I had my leg surgery stitches out in mid November and the next week was worse than the two weeks they were in. My skin doesn’t tolerate bandage adhesive. And, since I exercised while they were in they got puffy and a bit infected.
    This too shall pass.
    But it sounds as if you are fortunate to be alive. We all are of course but it is events like this that bring it home.
    Best wishes for a rapid recovery.

  55. reader
    · December 12th, 2011 at 12:53 pm · Link

    Hi Stacia, I’ve been a longtime reader of your works and your blog and dropping by to say best wishes for a speedy recovery.

  56. Jarrah Dale
    · December 12th, 2011 at 7:06 pm · Link

    oh my Gosh! I feel like crying that sounds so terrible. Please, don’t ever let yourself get in that condition again! It sounds utterly horrible! Take care!

  57. Khan
    · December 21st, 2011 at 12:58 pm · Link

    That sucks πŸ˜₯
    Glad to know you are feeling better.

  58. Colleen
    · December 22nd, 2011 at 9:20 am · Link

    Having gone through something similiar with a ruptured appendix I can honestly say, ” I feel your pain!” My fun side effect to medication was my heart stopped and I died! I know you will feel better soon and if your hair starts falling out, email me, and I will tell you all about it! 😯 Best wishes!

  59. Lizzy G
    · December 27th, 2011 at 9:19 pm · Link

    I just discovered your books based off the recommended list from the Smexy Book Review Website. I have to say I really loved the Downside series and I look forward to reading the Megan Chase series as well.

    I am sorry to hear you have been so ill. I hope you had a Merry Christmas and that you get well soon. I cannot wait until Sacrificial Magic. I have already pre-ordered and marked my calendar.

  60. Pierre L
    · December 30th, 2011 at 9:32 am · Link

    I just saw you on Twitter. I hope you are getting over your operation. Isn’t the NHS wonderful? I am very glad to have you back in the UK.
    Your books are in my Kindle reading queue.
    Happy New Year

  61. Gwen
    · January 4th, 2012 at 4:01 pm · Link

    I miss reading your blog.I hope you are feeling better!

  62. Katrina Brown
    · November 25th, 2013 at 1:15 am · Link

    I know I’m two years to late , I only discovered the magic series a few months ago, and it was only on the front of the book “chasing Magic” I saw you were in hospital, so, googled it to see what happened and came across this, I am so sorry you went through all that, though One thing did click with me, you saying that your private room was bare. I am in Australia, and here we have Medicare free government health, and here we do get a private room with tv, phone, computers allowed etc, most of the hospitals here have rooms not wards, and even in the ‘wards’ there are only 4-6 beds, I guess we take it for granted,
    anyway, I am glad you survived, and I do hope you have fully recovered.
    I do really enjoy the books, and look for ward to many future hours curled up and lost n your imagination.
    K brown, Adelaide South Australia

    • Stace
      · November 27th, 2013 at 10:02 am · Link

      Thanks, Katrina! It’s appreciated, even two years later. :) Interesting re Australian hospitals!

  63. Judy G.
    · March 11th, 2017 at 8:02 pm · Link

    Wow, just finished reading Chasing Magic, saw the dedication at the end of the book and jumped on the web. After I repaired the web, I found your story. I have spent way too long in hospital myself or witn my hubby. I had horrid pain in my gut and was barfing up a storm. Hubby took my to ER and determined I had an impacted gut. they didn’t want to operate as I have both Type 1 Diabetes and Ms. That meant lying in bed with IV’s, catheter, and heart monitor attached. O, how could I forget,(blocked from my memory, perhaps) a drain line up my hose and down to my stomach. Basically, they were throwing lots of meds at me and vacuuming out my gut via my nose. Eventually my piece of tangled gut resumed proper position and I started farting. I’ve never seen docs and nurses so enthused by a single fart. The gut started getting going again and I GOT THE F*}#€ink tube out of my nose. So I understand your pain. When my hubby was in hospital, they took his staples out too early and his incision opened up. You name it, hospital horrors, I’ve seen too many. No one should weigh older a hundred pounds, so eat, ear, and more eat! Here’s hoping your future has only good surprises. Take care of yourself, Judy

  64. Judy G.
    · March 11th, 2017 at 8:11 pm · Link

    Oops, caught up in the moment and was tell you to eat. It’s 2017 now. Can I plead fatigue!

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