Appendix A

Appendix A, a photo by AxisGrid on Flickr.

Via Flickr:

One afternoon when I was 10 years old, my mom sent me upstairs to clean my perpetually cluttered bedroom. As was my usual custom, I spent the first hour or two playing with the various toys and books I uncovered while moving the piles of junk from one corner to another. An hour later, I was doubled over in pain, running a fever and vomiting. This continued through the night and into the next day, during which time I had hours to wonder whether this was God's way of punishing me for never cleaning my room, and how long I'd be grounded when I got well and Mom discovered the mess around my bed was still more or less intact.

Except I didn't get well. Twenty-four hours later I took the first and only ambulance ride of my life to Pheonixville Hospital, where the doctors scratched their head over my blood counts and temperature. Apparently I had every classic symptom of appendicitis except the primary one - I was hurting in the wrong spot. Three days later, Dr. Waldorf burst into the room where my parents were watching helplessly as I clung to the bed rails, moaning in agony.

"Well, we have two options. We could open her up right down the middle and have a poke around," he said as he mimed unzipping a zipper from neck to waist, "or we could go in with the traditional incision and hope for the best."

Thank god my parents listened to their instinct. Eight days later I was released with a clean bill of health, an armful of new toys and an intestine two inches shorter than before. But the best part? My mom cleaned my room while I was gone!

Kids view on Life!!! Gotta Love it!!!