What Do You Gain When You Lose Your Appendix?

And your post-surgery survival kit

Wednesday afternoon, I declared in a conversation with my sister that my thyroid was in a place to commit to HIIT three days a week. I curated the perfect playlist of songs that make me invincible and booked physical therapy to take care of the herniated discs that flare up to level unbearable with more intense exercise. This was it. It was time. 

Thursday evening, O and I had a meeting to discuss spending. We decided that for the rest of Fall, we’d be on a cease-spend to avoid unnecessary spending as much as we can. We’re in the thick of building a home in the most expensive time ever to build a home and it’s time to implement some more balance. Yes, you’re right. Yes, I’m on board. Wallet z i p p e d. This will be great. 

Except Thursday evening, I had already noticed a strange pain I couldn’t place. No nausea, no yuckiness, just pain.

Deep pain.

It was happening about once per hour. “Thaaaat’s new,” I said to myself. But stomach pain is no stranger of mine. I thought little of it. 

I then thought a little more of it when the pain became less like “huh” and more like “dang.” I moved to the couch because there was no way I’d be able to sleep through what I can only describe as contractions—except in my stomach instead of my uterus— 5 minutes apart and all.