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The Bi-Weekly Calamity
Mar. 22nd, 2020 09:43 pmI'd gone three days with nothing traumatizing happening to my family.
I was overdue.
My wife starting feeling pain in her lower abdomen on Friday. By Sunday morning (4:45 am) the pain was unbearable and I had to call for an ambulance. The EMTs came quickly, took her temperature and blood pressure, and escorted her to the ambulance. I was not allowed to come along. (No visitors permitted at the hospital nowadays.)
So, it was 5am, and I was awake and alone with my thoughts. (My son was still asleep, and I didn't want to wake him up just to worry him.) What was happening? A urinary tract infection? Appendicitis? Kidney failure (what we'd dreaded for years)?
After four excruciating hours of exchanging texts and waiting for test results, it turns out:
None of the above.
Diverticulitis.
Which...made sense. Both my wife's parents had diverticulitis--and a long time ago, she told her mother it would be a nice present for her xxth birthday. Sigh. Happy birthday, sweetheart.
She's home now, resting comfortably, zonked out on antibiotics. It'll take awhile for the pain from the infection to go away. We'll need to adjust her diet. But this could have been a lot worse.
Crisis averted. Back to our regularly scheduled pandemic.
I was overdue.
My wife starting feeling pain in her lower abdomen on Friday. By Sunday morning (4:45 am) the pain was unbearable and I had to call for an ambulance. The EMTs came quickly, took her temperature and blood pressure, and escorted her to the ambulance. I was not allowed to come along. (No visitors permitted at the hospital nowadays.)
So, it was 5am, and I was awake and alone with my thoughts. (My son was still asleep, and I didn't want to wake him up just to worry him.) What was happening? A urinary tract infection? Appendicitis? Kidney failure (what we'd dreaded for years)?
After four excruciating hours of exchanging texts and waiting for test results, it turns out:
None of the above.
Diverticulitis.
Which...made sense. Both my wife's parents had diverticulitis--and a long time ago, she told her mother it would be a nice present for her xxth birthday. Sigh. Happy birthday, sweetheart.
She's home now, resting comfortably, zonked out on antibiotics. It'll take awhile for the pain from the infection to go away. We'll need to adjust her diet. But this could have been a lot worse.
Crisis averted. Back to our regularly scheduled pandemic.
