February 10. Sunday.
Mardi Gras was in full swing that day. Hannah & I shopped and wandered around the French Quarter. We grabbed lunch, talked on the phone, & got to see part of a parade!
Back on the ship, we had passenger drill, rehearsal, and our shows. After everything was over that night, Cameron came over to my room and we watched the Gwyneth Paltrow movie "Sliding Doors". Fabulous day!
February 11. Monday.
Nothing too eventful happened this day. I just went to the shopping talk, worked in the dressing room, and we had Band on the Run.
February 12. Tuesday.
The day started out like any other Tuesday in Costa maya. Cameron and I headed to our favorite beach for wifi and quesadillas. My stomach started hurting but I blamed it on the food considering we were in Mexico.
Back on board, Cameron invited me to go to a total body conditioning class he attends twice a week. It was an hour of intense everything. We spun, used weights, did TRX, ran stairs and a mile. I hated the personal trainer so much. During one of the last abdominal exercises as I tensed my muscles I suddenly felt one of the most excruciating pains of my life. It wasn't a regular work-out pain. I knew something was wrong.
So I stopped and hobbled back to my room. It was hard for me to lay down and hurt to used my stomach muscles. Hannah had ordered a pizza and invited me over. I would be thankful for this later because it ended up being my last meal for awhile. Rosie called me and insisted I got to the medical center immediately based on the symptoms I described. Reluctantly I went, mostly because Rosie can be scary. As you can imagine and might have experienced yourself, at the medical center I had to fill out a million forms while waiting to be seen and holding back the tears as everyone moves around the room at a glacial pace. The nurse finally took me into the examination room and the doctor poked my stomach and seemed surprised every time I would start crying. Yes Doctor, I am in pain and when you press your fingers firmly into my stomach, it will continue to hurt. Hooray for science! He gave me two big shots (which bruised by the way. thumbs up.) and then he said the words I had been dreading: "we need to keep you over night for observation." Horror.
As a point of interest I would like to note that English was the second language of everyone on the medical team. I am all for experiencing new cultures and thankful for the medical care that was available to me, but when you are pumping syringes of medication into my body while I'm in pain and sobbing, I would like to be able to understand what you are trying to communicate. Anyways, they put me in a room with two bed and one of those lame curtain dividers. An elderly male passenger was occupying the other bed white his wife there visiting him. Not awkward at all. I'm kidding. I would have much rather been in my own cozy bed a few yards down the hall. I convinced the nurse to let me go get my laptop and later on James & Rosie came to visit on the way to their singers cabaret. I told them the escape plan I had devised and on their way out I could hear James warn the nurse to watch me closely. Rosie came back later to check on me armed with my laptop charger and Teale Bear stuffed animal. I started crying again when she lovingly told me that if I had to be medically disembarked in Belize the next day that James was going to go to and try to stay with me. I already knew I loved that couple so much and that they called me family but in a moment of great need they really showed up to love and support me and I was so touched and relieved I thought my heart would explode.
I couldn't sleep that night. I was extremely uncomfortable not to mention unhappy and terrified at what would happen the next day. Honestly, a little part of me just didn't want to go to sleep out of spite. Mature, I know. But in my defense, the old man in the other bed was snoring. The ship doctor had no clue what was wrong with me so they just hooked me up to an IV and pumped me full of medication and fluids. I decided not to tell my parents yet because that would make it serious and nobody likes that person who posts awkward sickly Facebook statuses anyways. So I watched TV on my laptop until about 7am when I finally dozed off.
February 13. Wednesday.
Unfortunately, I was woken with a start at 7:45am in broken English by a different nurse asking about my pain levels. I was groggy, angry, and confused. They called James and he rushed out of bed to see me. I told him I was still hurting and had no interest in going to a hospital in a third world country. He firmly said that I had no choice because if they had to operate on board the ship is would be disastrous. At this point they suspected I had appendixes. It put me a little at ease that James was going with me and I was told I had five minutes to go back to my cabin and pack a bag. Everything was happening so fast, I had no control over it, and I was terrified.
The character Lord Voldemort in the final Harry Potter movie is the best way to describe what my face looked like that morning. Pale, puffy, bloodshot, hopeless. My eyelids were so swollen from crying that my usually large eyes looked like slits. I threw my toothbrush and some clothing into a bag as my roommate Jessica assured me I was going to be fine and would be back that afternoon. I didn't believe her. Rosie and James were waiting for me in the hallway and she gave me a huge hug before sending us off to catch a tender boat. The dancers Cameron and Sophie were waiting by the exit to the tender boats and hugged me too. Sometimes you don't realize how bad you look until you see the concern on another persons face. I felt loved but mostly weak and pathetic.
We survived the thirty minute boat ride to Belize City and the Port Agent met us at the dock. I was super groggy at that point and probably wouldn't have made it through the crowd of fanny-pack donned tourists without James. We were ushered to a taxi, hospital bound, along with a weird passenger from Oklahoma who had fallen down a flight of stairs. The man said he felt unsafe because Belize was a poor country and he didn't have a gun with him. James promptly replied that he felt safer there than he would in Oklahoma. Hilarious.
We finally made it to the hospital and then the real waiting game began. It was a little like being at Disney. Behind the doors of the first waiting room is a second waiting room. Deceiving. I waited for an hour before a nurse informed me that before they could do the Cat-scan (I think that's what it was..) that I would have to drink two stadium cups full of a disgusting orange liquid. It was the worst. Every time I would stop drinking and grimace, James would say "sippy sippy"! I punched him. We sat there for four hours using the free wifi and laughing about how there was still a needle in my hand. (Don't worry, the ship nurse put a bandage over it. So courteous.) James decided it was time to call my parents and fill them in. I let him do the honors. I found out later that my Dad had immediately researched and found a private jet company that specializes in medical evacuations and would fly me back to the good ole USA if an operation was necessary. Stoney canceled all of her immediate plans and started looking up flights for them to get to Belize. My parents are rockstars.
The nurse finally took me into the radiation room and the cat-scan felt like it took an hour. I wanted to die. I was laying in an uncomfortable position, wasn't allowed to move, and they just kept pumping me full of more medication. The doctor didn't see anything strange on the scans. Then they took me into the sonogram room and ruled out appendices. That was good news but my pain level had greatly increased since that morning. The following events happened so fast and are a blur due to all of the medication in my body, along with the lack of food and sleep. James filled out my paperwork and I was checked into the ER. Since I was so out of it my guardian angel, James, talked to the different doctors and surgeons that kept coming in. I just wanted to go back to my ship and wake up from this bad dream. Finally, a new doctor came in and after a quick exam was able to diagnose me correctly with an abdominal infection. It was great to finally have an answer but I started sobbing when I heard him say I would have to stay in the hospital for at least three days.
I could feel James's heavy heart as he approached my little bed and told me that the ship had not granted him permission to stay in Belize with me. Time had run out and he had to leave immediately in order to get back to the ship on time. Later he told me that when I looked up at him with my big sad eyes I looked exactly like the cat, Puss in Boots, from the movie Shrek. James also said leaving me there was the hardest thing he had ever had to do. My heart broke. I was terrified but he assured me that I was in good hands and that my parents had booked their flights and would be there with me when I woke up in the morning. We hugged goodbye at least five times and then he left. I didn't stop crying for the next few hours.
I could see the concern and pity on the nurses faces. One brought in yet another syringe of medication and an IV for me. I defiantly said I did not want it and begged her not to put it in. Obviously I gave in a minute later and cooperated but my vein had begun to really burn every time something new was injected. It's the weirdest sensation being able to feel something coursing through your vein slowly making its way painfully up your arm. They put me in a wheelchair and moved me from the ER into a private patient room. I set myself up with my MacBook and they finally let me eat something. Suddenly, the hospital phone next to my bed rang and I was greeted by my sweet roommate Jessica's voice! Literally right as she was about to explain that security had made her pack up all of my belongings in five minutes flat, my world exploded again. A guy from the Belize Tourism Board arrived along with two strange men wheeling three suitcases into my room. I started sobbing out of confusion, anger, and the fact that this made my situation even more real. Apparently it is ship protocol that when someone is medically disembarked all of their things must go with them. That was not a fun moment. Jessica said that the cast was all so worried and sent their love and prayers.
I was miserable. There were noisy chickens outside my window. There was a seemingly permanent bag of fluids being pumped into my hand. Every three hours the nurse would inject more medication into my IV. I knew that people have been in a lot worse situations and much more pain but my ship had just sailed away, I was in a hospital in a third world country, and I was going to throw myself a pity party.
Don't you worry, dear reader. The story doesn't end here. Stay tuned for part two!
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