Tag: O’Hare

“This pain is unbearable. I feel like little monsters are stabbing the right side of my stomach and there’s nothing I can do about it!!!!”

This thought ran through my mind as I tried to fall asleep in a tiny single-sized bed in a Japanese hotel room before the 11-hour flight back to O’Hare the next morning. The unbearable pain felt like Gollum from Lord of the Rings had infiltrated the right side of my stomach while repeatedly yelling “I’ve got you now my precious!!!” How on earth did I end up in this predicament? How did this crippling pain take hold of the right side of my stomach and latch on to me until I was on the last legs of life? Well, this whole story started 3,305 miles away in the tiny pacific island nation of Singapore.

From the time I was 13 until I graduated high school, my mom traveled five-six months out of the year for work. Her job as a computer engineer would land her in exotic and interesting cities and countries such as Dusseldorf (Germany), Hong Kong, Macau and India. I specifically remember spending months during the summer of 1998 (age 14) traveling with my mom all over India while she worked as a computer engineer. I spent most of my time that summer between Bangalore with the rest of my family and Hyderabad where my mom was working at the time.  I have very fond memories from that summer, and I’m thankful I got to see a big part of another country very different from where I grew up at such a young age. That brings me to the following summer when I ended up in Singapore because of my mom’s job.

I spent three weeks in Singapore during that summer, and I had an amazing time there. I still have vivid memories of exploring Sentosa Island, looking like a fool while attempting to play Dance Dance Revolution for the first time and taking in all the sights and sounds from this tiny island nation. It wasn’t until the end of the trip when Gollum decided to explode inside the lower right side of my stomach causing a turn of events that would create one of the most memorable experiences of my entire life.

It was the last night of my trip and I was bracing myself for a 3 a.m. seven-hour flight from Singapore to Tokyo’s Narita International Airport in a few hours with a one-day layover in Tokyo followed by an 11-hour flight from Tokyo to Chicago’s O’Hare International Airport. I decided to unwind by watching TV for a few hours before I had to head to the airport for the long flight. Everything was fine and dandy at first. I ended up watching a thrilling baseball game featuring the Ken Griffey and Alex Rodriguez-led Seattle Mariners. At some point while watching the game, I heard a pop in the right side of my stomach.

“Hmm… It must have been the noodles I had for dinner. I better go to the bathroom and take care of my business now so I’m not shitting bricks at the airport.”

I thought the pop was no big deal. It wasn’t until a few hours later when I was at the airport and Gollum started his wailing that I knew something was seriously wrong.  I vividly remember being in the security line at Singapore Changi Airport and not being able to walk because the pain was so bad. I really believe Gollum was trying to take over my soul through my stomach because he somehow thought I had possession of his precious ring. This excruciating pain I was going through put me in a dilemma. Do I postpone my flight back home, go to a hospital in an unfamiliar foreign country or do I suck it up and wait until I was back in the United States 36 hours later to see a doctor?

Common sense says I should’ve immediately gone to a doctor in Singapore but at 15, common sense was something I sorely lacked. Plus, the very idea of going to a hospital and possibly getting surgery (and all the repercussions that would come from said-surgery) in a country I had only spent three weeks in terrified me so I eventually made the tough decision to limp through that security line and board my flight to Tokyo.

That first flight was excruciating in every sense imaginable. I couldn’t sleep the entire flight and the horribly dubbed Kung-Fu movie I was watching couldn’t even lift my spirits up. If you know anything about me, you should know that I love horribly dubbed Kung-Fu movies. The flight was indeed that bad. I somehow made it to Tokyo in one piece and this is where things get even weirder. Wait, there’s something weirder than having Gollum take hold in your stomach and yell “I’m coming for you my precious!” while you travel between two foreign countries? Oh, things get even stranger from here.

After landing at Narita and limping through customs, I decided to sit down on one of the numbered luggage carousels while I waited for my suitcase to arrive. I was in excruciating pain at this point which caused me to have trouble breathing. How I was still alive at this point is something I ask myself to this day as a 30-something adult. After catching my breath and resting for 10 minutes, I feel something poking my back (which was just great for the pain I was in). I turn around to see a very angry airport security officer staring at me with an angry look in his eyes.

“Why you sit here! This no place for sitting! You get up from here now!”

If only this lovely man knew the pain I was going through, maybe his tune would change? Yeah, I didn’t think so either so I reluctantly got up without questioning him and waited for my suitcase to arrive. With my suitcase in tow, I eagerly anticipated reaching my hotel as quickly as possible and hoped I could sleep at least for a few hours as I was on zero sleep from the flight. Instead, I got swarmed by 40-50 Japanese girls running after an international pop star. It makes perfect sense that something like this would happen to me at this point.

“AHHHH! RICKY MARTIN IS IN THIS AIRPORT!!!”
“WE NEED TO FIND HIM!!!”
(One girl sees Ricky)
“THERE HE HIS!!! TIME TO MOB HIM!”

I knew Ricky Martin and his hit song “Livin’ la Vida Loca” were a huge hit in the United States in the late 90’s, but I soon found out that this Latin popstar was huge in Japan. To this day I’ve never seen anything like that scene I saw at Narita Airport in July of 1999. I also would’ve loved to have braved the swarm of Japanese teenage girls and meet him but Gollum had other ideas. I had a good laugh out of the whole thing and made my way to the hotel room where I planned to spend the rest of the night sleeping and maybe even watching and enjoying a horribly dubbed Kung-Fu movie on TV this time around.

Attempting to sleep didn’t work out for me all that well during my one-night stay in Tokyo. I spent the entire night tossing and turning, throwing up in the bathroom and yelling: “I must really be dying! I had a nice life. Goodbye!” Shit, I must have done something to Gollum’s parents or someone else in his family for him to be this angry with me. By this point, I had figured there was something seriously wrong with my appendix since the pain was in the bottom right side of my stomach conveniently where the appendix was located. Unfortunately, smartphones didn’t exist in 1999 and I didn’t have access to a computer so I couldn’t have gone to WebMD to confirm that I was indeed dying or at least suffering from appendicitis in a foreign country. After another excruciating night, I somehow braved Gollum’s deathly embrace and made it back to Narita for what I’m sure would be a “fantastic” 11-hour flight back home. By this point I felt like Mr. Wilson of Dennis the Menace fame. Even the slightest interaction with another human was sure to set me off. I’m pretty sure I gave the flight attendants menacing looks every time they offered me food or a drink during the flight. I know they were only trying to do their jobs, but I was on the verge of death by this point. As luck would have it, I ended up sitting next to a very attractive female around the same age as me during the flight back to Chicago. Under normal circumstances, meaning if I wasn’t on the verge of dying, I would’ve been extremely happy at this development because this scene was straight out of a romantic comedy.

Average guy takes flight home
Guy happens to sit next to a really cute girl
Cute girl and guy hit it off
Guy finds out cute girl lives in the same area
Guy and cute girl hang out all the time
Guy and cute girl fall in love and go through the highs and lows of a teenage relationship
Cute girl and guy break up
Cute girl and guy get back together after a big dramatic scene
Cute girl and guy live happily ever after.

Did I just describe a romantic comedy or an episode of Degrassi: The Next Generation? Regardless of how awesome this scenario would’ve been; I was in no mood to talk to anyone let alone a really cute girl. The whole situation was really unfortunate because this girl happened to be extremely sweet. I remember her asking me a lot of questions about my life, what I was doing in Japan and if I enjoyed my time there. At one point she even asked me to go to the bathroom with her to have what I’m assuming would’ve been uncomfortable but amazing sex in the tiny airplane bathroom.

I was cursing Gollum so much in my head at this point. A cute girl wanted to tickle my pickle 30,000 feet in the air. I politely declined because I’m pretty sure I would’ve collapsed trying to have any type of sex in my condition. Do you know how memorable that experience would’ve been for me? In fact, if that did end up happening, this story would’ve probably been about the time 15-year-old-me had sex in an airplane bathroom instead of rupturing my appendix (spoiler alert!) in a foreign country. After me and cute girl talked for a little bit, I ended up passing out due to the lack of sleep and overall exhaustion. Hours later, a flight attendant woke me up, mentioned that we were close to landing and that I had fill out a customs form. I had never been more relieved to fill out that form, get off that plane and rush to a hospital so I could figure out why Gollum hated me so much.

After going through the normal airport routine of passing customs and finding my suitcase in the baggage claim area, I saw my dad waiting for me right outside of the International Terminal at O’Hare. I’m pretty sure my mom (who had to stay back in Singapore for work) informed him of the situation so after asking how I was doing; he immediately drove me to the hospital in the suburban town where we lived.

At this point, my breathing was back to normal but my stomach fell completely bloated, and I felt like I was ready to pop ala Violet Beauregarde from Willy Wonka. After rushing me to the ER, I met with a doctor and after I described everything I had gone through the past two days, he felt my stomach and asked me this question:

“What’s your favorite food?”
“Um, potatoes. I really love potatoes.”
“Well, if I offered you a big bucket of French fries right now. Would you eat the fries?”

My Response:
“I don’t think so. I’m in considerable pain right now.”

What I Really Wanted to Say:
“No, you idiot. I almost died in two foreign countries over the past two days. Of course I don’t want food right now. I just want you to fix this unbearable pain I’m going through right now!”

After I answered all his questions and after he ran some tests, the doctor came back and told me I had a ruptured appendix and said I got to a hospital at just the right time because I would’ve died or gone into a coma if I had waited just another day due to the fluid from my broken appendix spreading throughout my entire body.

I eventually had surgery later that day to clean up my ruptured appendix and I eventually went home after five days of rest post-surgery. I even have a gnarly scar from the whole ordeal that I proudly show to friends after I tell them this story. If anything, I feel very fortunate that I survived the entire ordeal, and I’m still alive to tell this story. I could’ve easily died in Singapore, Japan or in an airplane while traveling back to the states. How many other people do you know can say they ruptured their appendix in a foreign country and traveled in serious pain only to survive? Not many I bet.