I had a scary night. I awakened at about 3:25 this morning with a pain on the right side of my abdomen, radiating through to my back. I tossed and turned a bit, but realized it was getting worse.
I got up. I went to the bathroom. I felt nauseous. I started to have difficulty breathing. The pain was crushing. I wondered, am I having a heart attack? Unable to lie down again, it was so excruciating, I paced a bit, and finally, unwillingly, called my best friend and 911. I coughed until the ambulance arrived (I read that somehwere... the crew confirmed to me, it's the right thing to do if you think you're having a heart attack).
They were all at the house in a matter of minutes. BFF had the job of waking Petra without scaring her to death. Quickly the EMT's (whom I LOVE. A shout out to EMT's. Woohoo!!! You guys rock.) determined it was not my heart, which was in a nice, normal sinus rhythm, though ticking along at 120 beats per minute (my blood pressure was so high I have blocked it from my memory. The diastolic was 90.). They took me to the hospital, where a lovely doctor (who looked like she might need to leave to go to the prom) quickly diagnosed a gall bladder attack. An ultrasound confirmed that I will need to have it removed. Fortunately, the pain passed (likely, a stone passed) and I was released. I need to follow up by calling the surgeon... now, I guess.
I've been sleeping for a couple of hours at BFF's place. Petra is in school, where I imagine she's somewhat the walking wounded (having been roused before 4 AM to accompany Mom to the hospital). I'm still a little shaken... the minutes waiting for the ambulance, the minutes driving to the hospital... I wondered if they were my last.
Thank God, they were not.