You may have noticed that I didn’t have any new recipes to share this week. There’s a reason for that, and it’s more ridiculous and amazing than any excuse I could have made up.
This past Sunday was my thirty-second birthday. I’d been having some pain in my lower right abdomen for the past few nights, but I decided to write it off (for the third day in a row) and push past it for the sake of celebration. Ian and I had friends over for dinner the night before, and had a day of food and fun planned.
We started our day with two cups of coffee and a mixed half dozen at the Holy Donut, and were thoroughly impressed, and a little concerned that it could become a regular haunt. Though we only nibbled at each of the six flavors we selected, we opted for a walk around the block, just to assuage our guilt before heading off to our sunny-day plan — a walk around Two Lights State Park — before the sky could change its mind and cloud up again.
We explored for a couple of hours, hiking the trails and taking photographs, enjoying the break in the weekend’s rainy weather as much as possible and learning about the history of the location before heading off to our rainy-day plan — because I had decided I wanted to do both.
Our rainy-day plan had been to explore the International Cryptozoology Museum, which I’d been wanting to check out since before we moved to Portland. We took in the exhibits and even had our picture taken with Bigfoot.
We smelled burgers wafting from a nearby restaurant as we headed back to the car, and went to Five Guys for a late lunch before heading home for a well-deserved birthday nap. After the nap, the pain had returned, so I decided to have Ian take me to Mercy Express Care in Westbrook, where they decided they couldn’t rule out appendicitis, and sent me to the ER at Mercy in Portland.
Once there, they had me pee in a cup and sat me down with an icy barium beverage, with the intent of sending me for a CAT scan to check out my appendix. I didn’t make it as far as the second dose of barium, however, because they had some surprising news for us. We’re going to be parents! An ultrasound was in the cards, then, both so they could measure the baby and try to get a look at my appendix. That’s when the second surprise was dealt: We’re going to be parents in AUGUST!
Still unable to rule out appendicitis, because the baby was in the way, they decided to admit me, and I sent Ian off home to bed around midnight; it was after two in the morning before they ran out of questions for me and let me try to get some sleep. I wasn’t allowed to eat anything, though, and I’m sure the nurses got tired of me answering, whenever they asked if I needed anything, “not until they decide to let me eat.”
The next day, I felt fine. The pain was gone. They did another ultrasound (the one pictured above) and still couldn’t find my appendix (which is a good sign — the first ultrasound tech told us that it shows up almost like a target when inflamed, but is hard to find at all when healthy) and I thought they were going to send me home, but it wasn’t to be. Ian brought me my laptop and cellphone charger, though, and my second night at Mercy was, if not more restful, less boring. And they let me have supper, which greatly improved my attitude, I’m sure.
Tuesday morning, after breakfast, I was finally sent home, with an official diagnosis of being weird from the surgeon who had been in charge of my case. I told him I already knew I was weird, and he said now I have clinical proof. So, now we embark on a new adventure, which I am sure will color the tone of Fia’s Maine Kitchen moving forward, because ours is no longer the kitchen of a couple, but a family.