So I’d ruled out appendicitis (because I had felt nauseous, but there was no vomiting) which just left ectopic pregnancy and/or kidney infection.
I know that the chances of pregnancy are currently at around zero percent, but my brain is unencumbered by such encumbrances as logic. My brain, when faced with the chance of a zero percent pregnancy and a piercing three-day pain in the lower right abdominal region thinks to itself, ‘Well, such a pregnancy would be ectopic, wouldn’t it?’
On the morning of the day which, I have the night before told the mister, ‘If it’s still there tomorrow I will find a doctor’ I wake with less of a piercing, but a strange sensation in my left Big Toe.* It is sort of as if it has pins and needles, but not. I do not look at my Big Toe, because instinctively I know this is one of those weird referrals of pain. From kidney to Big Toe. I am unhappy that I can now be sure it is a kidney infection of course, but pleased that it is not ectopic pregnancy.
Oddly, the pain is less than it was. I think if I ignore my Big Toe, this pins and needles feeling will recede. Perhaps leave.
‘It’s a little disconcerting,’ I tell the mister. ‘It’s like nothing I’ve ever felt before.’ And then, unable now to stop myself, I look down.
Is it pussy my Big Toe? Is it green? Is it inflamed?
It is none of these things.
My Big Toe is swathed (okay, wrapped) in a band aid of the most innocuous kind. The kind that has been used to stop the rubbing of new sandals.
‘What? The internet didn’t help you to diagnose Rogue Band Aid Disease?’ the mister says.
*I know that those capitals are uncalled for, but if any piece of anatomy deserves to be capitalised surely it is the Big Toe?
PS It occurs to me that some of you may be thinking I should have gone to the doctor on the first day of piercing pain rather than sit at my desk googling “pain lower right abdomen”. The thing is, I went to a doctor earlier this year (after several days of taking nurofen to dull an undullable head) and the doctor, on diagnosing tonsillitis was all but scrubbed up and ready to whip my tonsils out that afternoon. I am not only wary of scrubs-happy doctors, but also petrified of surgery and I have
read on the internet many verified first-hand accounts of people turning up to doctors and having appendices removed unnecessarily.