Ask me how I know this.
When last we left our tale of woe, I had called my family doctor with a simple "Hey, doc! I didn't go to medical school or anything, but I think I'm having another diverticulitis flare up. Can you just call in an antiobiotic and let me get on with the unpacking of the things and the moving of the things and the dusting of the things and the organizing of the things?"
The call finally came at about 6pm, and it was not at all what I expected.
"Get to the ER and get there now."
I confess to having a moment of hesitation, but then my better angels kicked in and I realized that Dr. Niklinska has been my doctor for 20 years now, and in that time she has never once lead me astray, and besides, I am teetering on the edge of oblivion with these kidneys and should probably sit up in the buggy and pay attention.
So I called Miss Charlene to give her a heads up that I was headed that way, pulled on some clean clothes, and headed out.
(Do you know that Miss Charlene showed up in that waiting room to make sure I was OK and to keep me company?! I swear...it's like I told Nurse Judy (who was taking care of me) "Every spinster needs a Miss Charlene".)
As predicted, Yours Truly is indeed suffering from an acute attack of diverticulitis. Ten days of antiobiotics and lots and lots of fluids and all should be well again in that department, and as long as I don't try to sit, stand, lie down, breathe, think, or move I feel just fine. The pain is...interesting, but the good news is that there was no sign of abscess or rupture, which means we caught it early.
My poor kidneys, though, appear to have taken a hit, and whether this is from the move, the heat we had, the progression of the disease, or the flare up is uncertain. So I will meet with the kidney doc next Monday to see if I can continue to limp along, or if it's dialysis time.
(I'm hoping for the former, just for the record.)
I will make a quick trip to the Targets for the prescriptions and some provisions to get me through, and then it's back to the Happy Chair until Miss Charlene picks me up for our excursion to the House of Stitches. As God is my witness, I will not move from this chair or touch one single solitary box or piece of mess today. I have looked forward to this trip for months and am not going to miss it.
I suspect that the pace will now be much different while I recoup. There is still an absolute ton of stuff to do here...not to mention the entire house that needs to be cleaned out over at The Forest, but...la dee da, la dee da...that will just need to wait.
All is well, dearies, all is well. I promise that this was actually a good thing, in that it got me to a full stop and on my big fat heiney for a rest.
If it also results in a needle and thread getting back in my hand it will definitely have been worth it!