Right about this same time last year, I awoke in the middle of the night with a sharp, stabbing pain in my lower left tummy.
"Well, this is it"' I said to no one in particular. "Something inside me has finally broken and now I'm going to die right here in the big girl sleigh bed."
Stewey, of course, was nonplussed and grabbed his reading glasses and iPad.
"Mo-ther, I suspect that you are having an attack of diverticulitis. Calm down, take a Tylenol, and call your family physician in the morning."
He was right, as he usually is. I had a nice case of diverticulitis, which meant nothing more to me at the time other than the fact that a nut or seed or some other small non-digestible morsel had gotten caught in my plumbing and decided to hang around and have a nasty party for good measure. An antibiotic, gallons of water, and a liquid diet later and I was none the worse for wear.
So when I woke up in the middle of the night this time with that exact sharp stabbing pain in my lower left tummy, I knew immediately what it was.
"Stewey, something has broken inside of Mommie, and she's going to die right here in the big girl sleigh bed."
This time, he grunted, rolled over, and fell back to sleep.
I'll call my doc in the morning, and then I'm sure I'll have to put my shoes and a bra on and go have them poke and prod and photograph and then poke some more, but at least I'll get a little love and sympathy from the trained professionals who will bill my insurance to do so.
The thing that bugs me, though, is that I can't for the life of me figure out what caused it this time. I've been pretty good, food wise, and the normal culprits like popcorn and driveway gravel haven't been around for quite a while. I mean, come on kids, when all you eat is EggBeaters and Oikos for a living, you don't figure to invite this kind of trouble.
Sheesh...when I was in my 20's I was a hot mess of bad food, bad habits, and bad lifestyle choices and I never felt better. Now I'm three months, eleven days, and ten minutes away from turning fifty...I live like a marathon-training nun on an organic kale farm, and I can't get out of bed.
Somebody up there sure has a sense of humor.
Tonight...Downton and the very last stitches on LJP's "Victorian Ribbons". Pictures tomorrow, I promise!