I just want to start out by warning all of my readers that this blog post is likely to be highly relatable and a very personal journey touching on one of the most pressing issues facing America today. Be forewarned.
For as long as I can remember I’ve suffered with the inexplainable/irrational fear of having an appendicitis at the most inopportune times.
Weekly, and often daily, I find myself identifying times in my life that would be the absolute worst to have an appendicitis. And then proceeding to mentally go through the actions of how I would suffer in silence. (I plan to read this blog word for word to my therapist at my next session DW guys!!!)
For example, the subway is common place for this shit to go down. I’ll be riding in rush hour and all the sudden be struck with thoughts of the big A (appendicitis- not anal). I imagine the sharp abdominal pain were to hit me, and how I’d be too embarrassed to inform anyone or ask for help. How I’d hope to just be let go easy and avoid eye contact with any bystanders to save myself any more humiliation than this life has already brought on.
Other instances occur when I’m at work, writing an exam, out with boys, in a profs office hours, at a job interview, at a networking event etc. The list truely goes on and is rather extensive and all encompassing.
Which is why I find it ever so poetic and beautiful that this past Friday night when I was struck with TRUE, TANGIBLE, sharp and isolated abdominal pain, accompanied with nausea and a fever, I was in a relatively safe space: my home.
Although I misdiagnosed myself with a rupturing appendicitis, and embarrassingly texted my entire contact list, proclaiming that I was dying, and alarmed my roommates who told me I would probably be fine, and slept with the lights on because I figured it would be happier to die in the light than in the dark….
….. Idk I guess I’m just trying to say life is a lose lose situation.