Birthday Belly

Birthdays tend to run the gamut of highs and lows, so I apply the principle of "hope for the best, plan for the worst". I love birthdays, mine and anyone else's that I can get involved in. When we were in elementary school, it was unspoken protocol that moms were supposed to bring cupcakes to the class on the day of your birthday. My mom wasn't perfect, but she did deliver on those cupcakes annually, in the flavor of my choosing. Two favorites that continue to this day are confetti cake or boston cream pie. So on this 38th birthday, I bought a boston cream pie and set myself for as much celebratory success as I could. In the weeks prior, I surveyed my local loved ones for the day the greatest number would attend my party, and adjusted to doing it 4 days after "the big day". I meal planned, shopped, and prepped all week, using the gathering for motivation to get my new cottage fully dialed in to my liking. On Sunday morning, things were mostly ready for the gang to come over; all I needed to do was throw the roast in the crock pot and dress the salads. Apparently, my gut had other ideas for the day. At 3am I couldn't go back to sleep, but knew I had time for a nap later, so went with it. I spent the wee hours painting and drinking coffee as usual, when I noticed a knot in my stomach around 4. Over the course of the morning it began to feel more like a punch in the stomach that just wouldn't go away. After 11 hours of symptoms I'd taken every treatment I could fathom and didn't know what to do. What if the vomiting started just as everyone arrived? but I didn't feel nauseated. What would I do with enough food to feed us all for a week sitting in my fridge? food waste makes me absolutely crazy. What if the pain passed right after I called off the party and then I sat alone watching Netflix instead of all this fun I planned for? that's what Monday nights are for, not the weekend. As I often do, I took the risk (knowing I wasn't infectious to others) and the friends arrived. I do believe we were all very happy I hadn't called it off. The evening was a joy.

Thank you all for coming and celebrating, making my home full of food, flowers, love, and friendship. Let's do it again soon, and next time, I intend to eat more of the fantastic spread.

It never became a flu, although over the course of the night, it felt like I was trying to digest shards of broken glass. No nausea, vomiting, fever, or any of that normal bug stuff. With the years I've spent successfully diagnosing and treating the abdominal pain of others, this one stumped me. I made need to write it up for the medical journals.

How does Broken Glass Belly sound?