What A Difference A Day Makes

June 2013
I woke up Monday morning all ready for my Zumba class. I am no pro by any stretch of the word when it comes to this class, but I have so much fun dancing my heart out. I call it dancing, maybe to my fellow classmates the moves I do might not be considered dancing. I went and had a good time and a good workout. That’s what matters. Before leaving to head to the gym Monday morning, I felt a dull stabbing ache in my left lower groin area. It disappeared as fast as it came. During Zumba I do recall having two more of these ‘stabs’ and I just kept dancing away, not giving it much thought. By Monday evening it was constant and not going away. Lord only knows what happened during the night because I woke up and thought I had a set of Ginsu steak knives ripping my lower abdomen out with every breath I took. As I laid in bed in sheer agony, now with chills freezing me beyond belief, I wished I had my rosary beads handy. The pain was THAT bad.

Tuesday morning arrived and I could not wrap my head around the fact that I was dancing around in Zumba just 24 hours earlier and at this time I was writhing around in agony. Having my appendix nearly burst 6 years ago and having emergency surgery, this pain was very similar to that mind numbing experience. Calling the doctor immediately was one smart move on my part because when it comes to me, I generally don’t think of myself. I tend to ‘put off’ things. Then I regret the turmoil that ensues, by waiting too long to get help.

Before and after I saw my doctor on Tuesday, I was on the Internet seeking out any info on ‘pains in the lower left groin area’. Some pretty scary stuff out there and I was getting a bit worried. When I saw my doctor and she brought up ‘Diverticulitis’ and explained in detail what that was exactly, I still had some uneasy feelings. I was informed my CT scan was scheduled for Wednesday afternoon and during the night on Tuesday, my mind wandered into some dark, creepy places. I kept thinking about the Internet and possible diagnosis’ and wasn’t comforted at all.

Still having my brain filled with scary thoughts (and trying to overcome the horrible memories- and tastes- of drinking 2 bottles of that sludge prior to the ct scan), I could not completely feel calm. Now this next part was one of those moments where I can only explain as having a ‘sign‘ as in the “Grim Reaper’ was standing by with scythe in hand. I get on the table where I will be rolled into the machine. On top of the machine is a large flat screen with sets of digital numbers. I noticed only the bottom numbers increased and decreased when I went in and out of the machine. The other sets of digits stayed put. Right dab smack in the middle were the numbers 666. Immediately I silently say to myself “Oh This CAN’T be good“ and a couple of choice words. This is NOT what I wanted to see, after reading about some dark and scary diagnosis’ regarding my pain and the area it was located in. I told Dennis about it when we left the facility and he said to me “Hey, my dog tags (service number) in Vietnam ended in the numbers 666 and I made it out of there…… by the skin of my teeth.” I am not superstitious, but I know there is a dark-side out there, and this just added bit of the creep factor going on with that CT scan machine.

So here it is Thursday, I now have a diagnosis of diverticulitis and the heavy duty antibiotics are working their magic. Now my overactive imagination can find peace tonight when I go to sleep. I can once again look forward to my dancing around at the gym. And planning our annual fourth of July party which I really enjoy doing!

I know life is fragile and precious and you just never know what can and could happen from one moment to the next. What a difference a day makes.


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