Another day at the ranch. The morning, overall, was not bad: treadmill, shower, breakfast, and off to have some blood drawn in advance of one of my doctor’s xmas gift to me – an MRI on xmas eve of my brain, to show us all there’s nothing there (ha!). I also managed to get almost all of the remaining tabascos, cayennes, and jalapenos picked in anticipation of a possible freeze Friday night.
The afternoon, however, brought with it a terribly painful gut issue. Based on the position, just under the right ribcage, my fabulous accumulated medical knowledge that I had no idea I would acquire in my pre-cancer life, told me it likely was not appendicitis, but either some kind of ulceration/irritation in the duodenum (where the stomach empties into the small intestine) or possibly a bout of pancreatitis (acute versus chronic), given that I felt like puking, but luckily only did some dry heaving.
So, I crushed up and downed a Tums, followed by my now-usual gut meds, hoping it would go away. In the meantime, since any movement just aggravated the pain, no afternoon session of walking on this particular day. This is the way it goes sometimes when your body betrays you: deal with it as well as you can, then go to bed and get some rest for whatever the next part of the battle in life is going to be.