Excuse me while I have a calamity
Gallstones, a leaking ceiling and other domestic dramas.
On Sunday night I was in the worst pain of my entire life. I woke up at about 11pm with an ominous pain in my abdomen and a sweaty sense of dread that something was very wrong.
It got worse. So much worse that I did what any adult woman in her 40s would do: I called my parents. Luckily, they were staying with me for the weekend, sleeping soundly upstairs. I heard an iPad jangling and waking them both up, then a brief marital kerfuffle as one blamed the other for not having their phone on Do Not Disturb. And then it went to voicemail.
Silence from above. I felt like Tom Hanks in Castaway.
It got so bad over the next few minutes that I started to cry out like a wild animal.