Rodney Gamble

For 33 years, I was always a healthy fit man. I participated in many sports, non-smoker and was a gym rat. One day I felt a little sick. I thought I had the stomach bug. I could barely get out of bed. When I was able to make it out of bed, I felt dizzy.

After spending seven days trying many home remedies and not listening to the advice of my mother and girlfriend (who urged me to get to the hospital), I finally went to the hospital. I was so weak. I needed help getting dressed and getting in and out of the car. For some reason when I checked in at the front desk of the hospital and said that I needed to be seen, tears came racing down my face. It’s as if I knew I was in for the battle of my life.

The physician’s assistant (doctor was too busy) who examined me told me that after doing an x-ray they detected a spot on my liver and infection in my lungs. They thought I had pneumonia. Then it switched to they thought that my appendix burst.

The next day a surgeon did exploratory surgery to remove my appendix – first surgery of my life. When the surgeon went in my belly button, she said that puss and infection was gushing out. It coated my abdomen and organs and created an abscess on my liver about 3/4 the size of my liver. The strep infection was in my blood stream. I was in septic shock and my liver was barely functioning.

After cutting my abdomen open top to bottom, the surgeon could not close my abdomen because my intestines were so swollen from being infected and that my lungs would have been crushed due to the inflammation and infection. Also, the surgery lasted longer than anticipated, the anaesthesia wore off and I was some what awake during parts of the surgery. PTSD.

The surgeon who was was very concerned about my health had me transported to another hospital where the chairman of surgery performed life saving surgery on me.

Prior to the surgery, my family was told by the new surgeon that I would have a 50/50 chance of making it. After recovery, I was told that I would be in hospital nearly 3 months. I was on a ventilator for nearly a week. I was unable to get out of the bed without assistance, was not able to go to the bathroom alone. My health began to improve and I was able to sit down in chairs and started being able to walk very short distances with a walker. After being told that I would spend nearly 3 months in the hospital recovering, I was out in less than 2 weeks.

For 6 months after my surgery, I had to walk around with an abdomen the size of someone who was pregnant. Three and a half years and seven surgeries later, my abdomen is about 90% back together with pronounced scarring throughout my abdomen.

I have my life and my health. Struggling to get out of bed and seeing the scars on my abdomen gives me a daily reminder of my battle. Conversely, it gives me an appreciation for life deeper than you can ever imagine. I thank God over and over for seeing me through and for blessing the doctors with skills to save me and put my abdomen back together. I am thankful for everyday of life and although I wish I hadn’t gone through this experience, it has undoubtedly made me a better man.