A year ago today Eleni and I were in Reykjavik, Iceland, for a weekend break. On the second day there I had a stomach ache which wouldn't go away. I tried antacid but it didn't work. Eleni eventually insisted I go to a doctor. The doctor tapped around my abdomen and insisted I go to hospital directly. "You have appendicitis", she said. I thought it only happened to children.
The opinion of the hospital doctors varied somewhat from the GP. They thought I had peritonitis because my appendix had already burst. I was rushed to theatre...and woke up very groggy the next morning, dosed with morphine. My appendix hadn't burst; it did that on the way out. The hospital, doctors and nurses were terrific.
Not only did I think I was too old for this, but it was one of the few intimations that something awful was happening and I might not survive. My mother's first husband died of peritonitis. I was depressed for a while after and then encroaching deadlines took me out of it.
It's my first anniversary without my appendix.
The opinion of the hospital doctors varied somewhat from the GP. They thought I had peritonitis because my appendix had already burst. I was rushed to theatre...and woke up very groggy the next morning, dosed with morphine. My appendix hadn't burst; it did that on the way out. The hospital, doctors and nurses were terrific.
Not only did I think I was too old for this, but it was one of the few intimations that something awful was happening and I might not survive. My mother's first husband died of peritonitis. I was depressed for a while after and then encroaching deadlines took me out of it.
It's my first anniversary without my appendix.
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