It only feels like yesterday since I wrote about Hubby’s struggles. Two weeks have easily passed and I couldn’t really tell you what I’ve done with my time. I guess the saying “same old same old” would describe it perfectly. I also subconsciously felt like I needed a break from social media and technology in general. Appreciating how much my own mental health is entwined with Michael’s was probably the catalyst for this need.

When I’m in one of those moods, motivation for writing on my blog isn’t there. Although the ideas thankfully keep coming. I find I can start posts but they don’t flow how I would like them to or I simply can’t finish them. So, I’ll probably get back on that wagon this week. It’s not that anything bad has happened or that I’ve been feeling down, quite the contrary. We’ve had dance parties, Spring cleaning and a general sense of getting sh*t done. Oh, not forgetting to mention the ovarian cyst I was taken down with too.


You see, an excruciating pain in my right side started last Saturday. In true Brit fashion I got showered, dressed and waited patiently for Hubby to wake up so we could discuss if he thought I had appendicitis and needed to go to hospital. Obviously I didn’t want to make a fuss in case I was just being a bit hysterical.

Michael’s first question to me was if it could just be trapped wind? After all, we had a similar situation with him several years ago when he ate too many cheese sandwiches. He writhed around in agony for the better part of an hour before deflating like a balloon. A very smelly balloon.


The pain eased off throughout the day, as I powered through chores with a stiff upper lip. This kept happening until finally, on Wednesday, I could hardly walk and was having to breathe through waves of sharp pain. Again, not wanting to waste anyone’s time, I got Hubby to have a bit of a prod and poke of the area. We thought we were onto something when he declared he could feel something really hard, but, with mixed feelings, it just turned out to be a hip bone. I say mixed feelings because I was beyond thrilled we could actually feel it what with the extra baby weight, yet disappointed we were no closer to self diagnosing the problem.

I was still proclaiming that I didn’t want to make a fuss when he told me to stop being so British and booked me a doctors appointment for that afternoon.


Later that day, and after another prod and poke, the doctor said she didn’t think it was appendicitis because it would have escalated by now. She did however mention a rarer condition called a grumbling appendix. This bothered me because I simply don’t have the time for an operation! The more likely issue was an ovarian cyst.

I have PCOS which means I have lots of little cysts all in my ovaries, but none (that I know of) have ever gotten big or caused me major discomfort. Apparently they’re fairly common and the doctor said they tend to just pop and recover on their own without needing intervention. She gave me requests for a blood test and ultrasound just to check everything anyway.

The next day I woke up with no pain so I figured it’d popped. Discomfort came back fleetingly throughout the afternoon and over the next few days but I’m right as rain today. So, it must have been an ovarian cyst. Definitely not trapped wind for those still doubting the diagnosis!

That’s about it. Feels good to be back blogging and feeling fighting fit again.

K x



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