When I was a kid I once, while visiting my grandmother, developed an inflamed spleen. This lead to the classic exchange:
Doctor: Have you had a bowel movement today?
Me: What?
Nana (whispering): He means “have you had a shit.”
Then, six years ago, my gallbladder made life a living hell.
Now, today, a visit to the doctor reveals that I may have an inflamed appendix. Not an appendicitis, at least right now. But enough to make life uncomfortable. Leading to the exchange:
Me: So if it does develop into an appendicitis, how will I know?
Doctor: You’ll know.
If I make it through this, I will have done battle with all of my vestigial (or at least non-essential) bits. At least I hope that’s all of them.
Update: White blood cells not elevated, so new thinking is that I have some sort of virus that causes abdominal pain that will “clear itself.” Hmmmm.
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Tonsils?
Tonsils?
Damn it, tonsils. I still
Damn it, tonsils. I still have them.
Anyway, good luck.
Anyway, good luck.
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