Hello Australia, Goodbye Appendix

 Tangents 
     
 In case you were wondering, I have been alive for approximately 7400 days.

 I have spent 7000 of those days in my little bubble of heaven back in Chapel Hill, North Carolina, where life is easy and my biggest cause of stress is whether I am going to get an A or a B on my next exam.

Of the 400 remaining days I have been alive, 363 of those were spent in the US, 34 of them were spent somewhere in Europe or South America, and only 3 had been spent in Australia.

If you then take these numbers I am throwing out at you and do a proportion, you will find that I have spent exactly .04 percent of my life in Australia.

Who cares?

I am telling you all of this because I would like to statistically back up the claim that my luck is in fact the worst, and this is because my appendix conveniently chose this .04 percent of my life to burst.

The Story

It was a normal Saturday. My roomates and I went into the city in search of a Super Target like any normal homesick American would, but as the day progressed, I became nauseous which then turned into a far worse stomachache more resembling cramps. As we passed a Starbucks and I proclaimed I didn't want anything, that's when I knew something was seriously wrong.

By the time early evening had rolled around, I was so miserable that I called it quits and went to bed at 7 pm hoping it was a 24 hour virus where I would wake up the next day feeling better.

4 am rolled around and not only was I awake, but I was on the phone with my mom trying to figure out what I possibly could have that would hurt this badly? A doctor came to see me around 10 am and he informed me that I should just rest and drink a lot of water for the diagnoses he gave me of "a tummy ache" (said in half Australian half Indian accent). After I stared down at my 200 dollar bill I demanded 4 Tylenol, which he bregrudgingly handed over, before departing 10 minutes after he had arrived.

 The day dragged on and by three o'clock in the afternoon I could no longer walk and any slight movement caused me to burst into tears. The logical next step would be to find a way to the emergency room, but because I am staunchly against being a drama queen, I held out and sat statue still in my room waiting for the pain to magically disappear.

Finally, after googling 13 different MD sites listing the symptoms of appendicitis (most of which I matched), I legitimized a trip to the hospital. I would deal with the drama queen accusations once I had hospital confirmation that my appendix was not going to burst overnight and lead me to my untimely death.

Unfortunately, I never got this confirmation. After about 15 minutes they told me I had appendicitis and many asked why I hadn't taken the ambulance in. One would think that since ambulances were suggested, I would have had immediate surgery, but they instead chose to delay it until the morning because they didn't feel like making the surgeon drive in on a Sunday night.

What I got to do Sunday night instead of clubbing. Photo cred to Shand

 I ended up staying at the hospital for 2 days, and may or may not be known as the girl who started screaming at the nurses for a diet coke fresh out of surgery, but I reserve the right to be a demanding you know what after coming out of a procedure that has permanently ruined my bikini bod.

In regards to my bikini bod- I had three incisions on my stomach, so me, Shand, and our other housemate Honour are going shopping for some trendy one pieces before I start getting asked on the beaches if I've had a Cesearian Section and why I left the baby at home. Kill me now. The one piece will also be necessary as I am on a month long ban from running while I heal. Looks like I either kick my ice cream habit or face the consequence of resembling a whale. I'm still deciding which lifestyle I will choose, although I am obviously eating ice cream in the meantime because I firmly believe it contributes to a healthy peace of mind, which I'll need while making this decision.

While I would not say that there is a bright side to this situation really- as only someone with extremely awful luck could be in it to begin with- I will say my people have come to my side and shown their support.

My roomates visited me in the hospital and brought me a cosmo and a card signed by random people in a food court as well as themselves seeing as we have been here for less than a week and have no friends.
 

I received endless awkward questions from doctors who thought they showed up at the wrong bed because they were there to treat a girl with appendicitis 

And Ross was awesome and overnight shipped me flowers. They definitely improved my day by a long shot, so you're the best.

Housemate JJ trying to steal my flowers while grieving that no boys have sent him flowers. 

So all in all, my start to Australia could have been better,  but given the odds of me getting my appendix out three days after I stepped off my flight from Australia, I'm convinced that I am destined to win the lottery because if I have defied all reasonable odds once, who is to say I can't do it again.

Until next time

-F