Lying As I lay down in bed at night, I experienced a sudden and intense pain on my stomach. The sensation was strange. It did not feel like food poisoning.
I felt a dull pain just above my navel. It was below my rib cage. I attempted to return to sleep by taking some paracetamol.
Last Friday, it was Friday morning and I had to finish work in time for the Ten O’Clock News. Because I would not finish work before 10.45pm, it was not ideal that my night be interrupted.
The pain was worsening and I couldn’t eat breakfast nor go for the planned swim.
I rang the GP surgery where I have been a patient for about three years — although I have never met any of the doctors there, as, since Covid, all I’ve ever been offered is a phone consultation.

Reeta, a BBC Newsreader (pictured), has written about her experiences with appendicitis. She was eventually admitted to hospital in Italy.
The locum physician called back very quickly. I told him where it was located and how intense it felt. When he asked whether there were any discomforts on one side or the other of my abdomen, I answered that there wasn’t. It was in the center.
The doctor thought the problem was gastritis.
It seemed that there was no way I could resist seeing him face-to-face. He suggested I do as he advised, but my pain didn’t let up and I was forced by him to cancel my shift.
The pain returned 24 hours later and it became quite severe. No difference had been made by the medication.
I was in bed and unable to eat. I got in touch with NHS 111, who agreed that it was troubling, and they gave me an appointment at the A&E department of a local hospital.
As everyone else I waited for my turn, and waited for over three hours. A fellow patient saw that I was in a lot of pain, and volunteered to bring me some cold drinks, just like that — a good and kind man.

Pictured: Newsreader. The telephone visit was for stomach pain. Gaviscon was administered to her, however she was not allowed to go to the doctor in person.
The doctor performed blood and urine tests, then I was finally examined. She told me the diagnosis of my GP.
My inflammation markers were elevated, she said, as well as the number of white blood cells in my body (which fight infections) which was high.
After feeling my stomach, she stated that she could not feel any lumps. She agreed with the GP and said it was probably gastritis.
No other tests were offered. There was no ultrasound. It’s not that I ever thought of asking that question back then. Gaviscon gave me more assurance and I headed home.
I felt worse over the following days. I was unable to return to work for the second shift and pulled out on the third day. As if I had the flu, I felt exhausted and wiped out.
My stomach pain became an unbearable, constant, and persistent discomfort. I also felt a terrible taste in my mouth.
The pharmacist at my local pharmacy advised me that it might be gastritis. I was prescribed proton pump inhibitor pills, which reduce stomach acid. I started using them.
While I thought I felt better, I started to believe I was hypochondriac.
The end of the week saw me present a BBC1 program about the Queen’s Baton Relay. It marked the start to preparations next year for the Commonwealth Games.
Next day, I took the Six O’Clock News and Ten O’Clock News. To keep my pain in check, I took lots of paracetamol and the pharmacy’s pills. The pain persisted and I was constantly afflicted.
The weekend I flew from Rome to meet with the charity of which I am a trustee. Paul, my husband and I took a little break.
Two days of walking slowly around this beautiful city. It hurt my stomach too badly.
Now, I started feeling nauseated and my taste buds were getting worse. My husband kept telling me that I wasn’t feeling well. However, neither one of us considered the possibility of gastritis.
I avoided any acidic food and drank very few alcohol.

After flying to Rome, the pain in her abdomen intensified and she passed out in a taxi before being rushed to hospital, where she was told she had appendicitis
Ten days later, the first signs of pain were still there. We took a taxi to get to our charity meeting.
As we approached the gate of the building, the pain in my stomach had intensified. I knew I was going to faint. After muttering something about the pain to my husband, all of it went completely blank.
Next thing I noticed was his hand on my neck and the sound of his voice calling from faraway. After calling an ambulance, the taxi driver brought me in and was now in terrible pain.
Paramedic laid me down on her stomach and gently massaged my stomach. She reached the right side of my stomach and I gasped.
“Ah,” she replied, “appendice.” “I don’t hope so,” she continued, “but possibly.”
As the driver drove through the city and the car bounced on old cobbled streets, the vehicle sped along, and the vehicle screamed at me.
There followed another three-hour wait on my own in A&E — my husband couldn’t be with me, just like at home, because of Covid restrictions. I was left in an unoccupied waiting room on a bed with no water and painkillers.
At least, I was still horizontal. But now I was disoriented and feeling a lot of discomfort.
It could have been appendicitis. But why did it become so severe? Is it possible that the burst occurred? I realized that it was a sign of my imminent death.
I don’t know why no one came to my aid. It was hard to learn Italian, and I only have 30 words. Most of my Italian is restaurant-speak.
We kept messaging each other in an effort to keep our spirits up, but as we waited for the right time, I was haunted by dark thoughts, wondering if my husband had forgotten me.
This was not the case. After a few blood tests I was taken to the hospital for an ultrasound and CT scan. Then, the next morning, an X-ray.
The appendicitis was severe. It was apparent that my appendix had become very inflamed. I also received an infection diagnosis.
Next day, I was able to have my appendix removed. I then spent 8 days in hospital receiving powerful intravenously administered antibiotics.
The doctors and nurses at the hospital provided excellent care and helped me grow from 30 to 40 words.
But along with the relief at being treated, and knowing that I was going to recover, came one big question — why was this not picked up before? Without knowing, I would have never dreamed of travelling abroad.
The surgeon that operated on my body was very kind and helpful. I was told appendicitis can be difficult to diagnose. He also said that it is not common for them to operate on patients only to discover their appendixes are perfectly healthy.

However, he said, my condition was now much more severe because it had been delayed ten days.
You can be wise following an incident. Appendicitis is a condition that begins with pain in your stomach. This is the same as what I reported to my two London doctors.
How would that have affected my decision if the first GP examined me? That’s all I know.
The A&E doctor did examine me, but perhaps she had in her head the diagnosis of the GP. Although I wasn’t in agony, like I was in Rome, my condition had significantly deteriorated by that time. She did not give me any advice on how to respond to future or ongoing symptoms.
They both probably missed it. I won’t know. The Italian doctor explained that it is difficult to diagnose. However, I suffered severe anxiety and pain as a result.
I’ve written the surgeon and hospital trust. They are looking into the matter and have both apologised. I am grateful.
I’m old enough that I have experienced positive encounters with NHS before.
A serious health problem was identified in my body three years ago. I received prompt, expert care. Although some pregnancies were difficult, my three children are healthy and happy.
Und ich komme aus a medical background. My dad was a surgeon and worked for the NHS over many decades. Both my brother and stepson are doctors. Trust in NHS medics is a part of my DNA. I have a deep loyalty to it.
Do my past experiences show that the system is suffering, as some of my colleagues in health reporting continue to say? Was I just unlucky?
My editor pointed out very cleverly to me that each case is the one being judged by NHS. Although it might do 95 percent of the work correctly, that does not compensate the 5% who were wrongly served.
My recovery is going well. I will be able to regain my faith in the system. However, it is taking a knock at the moment.