Imagine being so privileged that by your almost mid-thirties, the “scariest experience” of your life was having a bad bout of food poisoning. That, pregnant or not, didn’t require hospitalization. And you were located in a major city when it happened, easily in reach of one of the world’s greatest health care systems.
I get food poisoning frequently, which only started after having my appendix removed (there is possibly a link, some studies show), so I am aware of how awful it is. I once had it on a remote island, a 5-hour journey by car and ferry from any decent hospital. I rode it out for 4 days mainly because my boyfriend at the time was too scared to move me, and I barely remember it, but still wouldn’t call it the “scariest experience” of my life. God she suuuuuuuuuuuuuuuucks