On the evening of December 30, 2020, I was sitting in the living room with my husband and mother-in-law. We were playing a board game after an enjoyable, not over-large, dinner when I began to feel some tummy distress.
On the morning of Monday, March 1, 2021, I had surgery to repair a hernia.
The path between these two dates…well, it would be as tedious for me to recount it to you here as it was to live through it, I suspect. But suffice it to say, living on an island without a hospital, or even an urgent care center…or even a clinic that’s open nights, weekends, or holidays…can make the simplest things extra-challenging.
It wasn’t until several weeks after the initial tummy distress showed up (fortunately, it had stopped hurting by then, as long as I didn’t poke at it) that we were even able to get it diagnosed. This involved off-island travel, to the hospital in Anacortes.