When dinner goes wrong.
After a meal out at a local Mexican restaurant, I was struck down with Abject Agony. Surely, I thought, these were my end of days.

My husband called NHS Direct while I screamed in pain in the background. They confirmed that something inside of me had likely exploded all up my guts and would most certainly give me The Imminent and Painful Death. My husband called an ambulance.

WeeeWaaaah WeeeeWaaaah! we flew to the hospital so I could dodge my expiry date. I was poked, I was prodded, I had scans, I got a laxative and the pain abated.

Their diagnosis?

Sharp Nacho.
(TheSnark oh, c'mon, like you didn't see me coming, Mon 15 Mar 2010, 10:07, Reply)