Worst Sunday ever

Here's a terrible way to spend a beautiful spring Sunday: Get mysterious abdominal pains that aren't particularly symptomatic of anything, but are too painful in the appendix region to ignore, and go to the hospital to investigate. Arrive at 9 a.m. Wait a couple of hours and talk to a doctor. Have a saline IV for lunch. Wait another hour or so until the radiology tech arrives with a disgusting drink. Wait another hour for the drink to wreak havoc on your digestive tract. Get a CT scan. Wait 2 hours for the results of the scan and blood tests. Find out that there's nothing wrong with your appendix or anything else they can see, but by the way -- you have unusual internal organs (try 4, yes 4, spleens; a really big liver; and a really small pancreas). Wait another 90 minutes for signout and to go home. Arrive home at 6 p.m.

After this misadventure, I then had to go to my regular doctor on Monday for a followup (everything normal). They insisted I also visit the consulting surgeon on Wednesday, who also said Hey, weird abdomen, but nothing to operate on.

By then, all symptoms had disappeared. Go figure.

But at least I didn't have to have an emergency appendectomy.