My appendix is gay because it came out with the help of a surgical team in Tallaght Hospital on Thursday afternoon.Appendicitis information (symptoms, diagnosis, treatment) written by medical doctors
I woke up on 3 o’clock on Thursday morning with a really bad pain in my belly. I got up, trying to think what had I eaten that hadn’t agreed with me and thinking that pains in the dark in the middle of the night always feel bad. An hour and a bit later after much writhing and a phone call to VHI’s Nurseline myself, Himself and G were bundled up in the car and flying down the road to Tallaght Hospital. 12 hours and a lot of belly poking, injections, pills and and ultrasound later, I was trying hard not to think about the last time I saw my two boys was in a corridor in a hospital and then I was gone.
I lost a late afternoon of my life. Well I managed to keep bits of it. I remember trying to decide which language to ask some question in. And asking for Himself who eventually found me back in the ward, retching of course.
When I eventually woke up once and for all I was severely pissed off. There was a load of people having 5 conversations around the cubicle next to mine. God I was narky but I managed to avoid saying anything to them. It turned out that there was a reason the lady they were visiting had so many visitors: she was really nice and if it hadn’t been for the conversation I had with her on Friday morning I swear I would still be in hospital.
I am currently sitting in bed being expertly-ish cared for by my fiance. I say -ish cos he just gave me mushed up weeatabix for breakfast and I prefer my weetabix solid but life thank god goes on.
The whole episode reminds me of two things: as essay written by the author of Seasbiscuit about her ME and secondly the time we knocked a puppy down on the Dublin to Galway road. Basically both and all that happened last week are all about how you go along stressing out about the silliest things (Wednesday night: wedding photographers) and life comes along and tells you to stop, it is unimportant as long as you are there for the event.
Actually the book I am reading is kind of about that very thing. The Time Traveler’s Wife by Audrey Niffenegger I would highly recommend it but only if you are a true romantic.

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