So, you caught the ref to my emergency room adventure in the last post, huh? Yeah. As it turns out, ovarian cysts can feel a lot like appendicitis, only – surprise! – they’re just a totally benign set of baubles, hanging out in my ovaries and making me want to die. I bet my face was red! And not just from the morphine!*
It turns out I’ve got hemorrhagic cysts, which typically reabsorb or something, but in my case have merely proliferated and grown fat and lazy. They’re harmless, if by “harmless” you mean “extremely painful but not actually going to kill me.” Ask me how much I like the idea that my body spontaneously creates things which cause me excruciating pain! Because, seriously.
And it wasn’t like I’d planned on spending the first full day of my New York vacation being rushed to the hospital in an ambulance while I sent a pain-muddled text to my poor friend, due to meet me any moment, saying “I’m so sorry I can’t meet you but I’m on my way to the emerg room w/ severe abdom pain” – which, I would like to point out, is NOT THE SAME AS SPENDING THE AFTERNOON AT MOMA, thanks a lot, ovaries.
*Have I mentioned I don’t like morphine at all? I mean, yes, it took away the brunt of the pain, which was definitely of the good, but it gives me the spins something fierce and just makes me want to sleep for about five years, which isn’t exactly helpful when hospital-folk want questions answered in a competent manner. Then again, my gasping in agony wasn’t exactly helpful, either.