An Unexpected Thanksgiving

Thursday morning started with a very clear indication that I was having a diverticulitis attack. Three-plus hours in the ER, blood work, and a CT confirmed that I am a very good diagnostician. The good news is that it’s not a horrible case, and I hadn’t lost appreciable blood. I’ve been a couch potato ever since.

At a start, we are glad we weren’t hosting the holiday… There were discussions about who was going to do the honors, and my daughter pulled the short straw.

I’ve been reading a lot, starting to do a very little bit (made the bed, stoked the fire…), and am revisiting my foul relationship with one of the two antibiotics prescribed for this affliction. At least the pain has subsided.

Meanwhile, it’s been my DH on everything, all weekend. One of the fallouts of this is exhaustion. Poor sleep is not helping. My DH is wonderful 💜.

Diverticulitis is a family curse. I am 4th generation, with one of my daughters carrying the flag for the 5th generation. It’s been years since the last time I got bit by this. Much better than decades ago when I was laid low multiple times a year. Now I just have to deal with the side effects of the antibiotic, heal, and rest.

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