I’ve been single for the better part of my adult life, and though I try my best not to sweat it (and remind myself that I’m only 26 and my ovaries have time), I, like many people, have certain fears about being single. While I’ve never worried that I could die alone in my apartment and go for days unnoticed (my dog and amazing roommates would know in a hot minute), I’ve always wondered just how much that emergency contact would matter if I ever actually needed medical assistance.
Last week, I got the unfortunate opportunity to find out.
After vacationing at my family’s lake house in North Carolina for 10 days, I caught a flight back to New York with what I thought was a pretty common swimmer’s ear infection. But when I headed to the office the next day, the right side of my face underneath my earlobe started swelling. By mid-afternoon, my co-workers encouraged me to get to urgent care stat, as the bump went from barely noticeable to red and about the size of a softball. I don’t hate doctors, but I pretty much always think whatever I have is contagious, fatal and disfiguring, so to actually see a physical change in my appearance was terrifying. Not to mention that it was sensitive to the touch and I could barely turn my head without feeling a sharp, intense pain.
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