Lottie Tomlinson reveals she was rushed to hospital for emergency surgery on landing in Abu Dhabi after falling ill on the plane there
The influencer, 26, who is one of One Direction star Louis Tomlinson 's sisters, had flown to the country with her fiance Lewis Burton and their children.
But Lottie said she started to feel unwell on the plane there, with stomach pains getting worse before she eventually vomited.
After landing in Au Dhabi, Lottie went to see a doctor and was put on a drip - but when it didn't help the pain she was sent to hospital where it was discovered she had appendicitis.
Lottie was then rushed for emergency surgery to have her appendix removed and shared a clip explaining the scare from her hospital bed on Instagram on Thursday as she recovered.
'So I didn't expect to start our trip like this but I'm just grateful that I'm recovering now,' she began. 'I felt quite ill on the way here, on the plane, really bad stomach pains.
'Then I started throwing up when I got here and long story short I went to the doctor and they put me on a drip - but it wasn't helping with the pain, the stomach pains.
'So they sent me to hospital where they discovered that I had appendicitis so I needed surgery straight away, so last night I had surgery to remove my appendix and it all went well, so I'm just now recovering.
'But I'm so grateful to all the nurses and doctors that have looked after me and I'm hoping that I can make a quick recovery.'
She captioned the clip: 'Thank you to all the lovely doctors and nurses here in Abu Dhabi.'
Lottie also shared a snap of Lewis sitting by her ward with their two-year-old son Lucky as they kept her company. The couple also welcomed their second child, a daughter called Flossie, in January.
'Hopefully I can make a speedy recovery and enjoy our last few days here,' she captioned the snap of Lewis and Lucky.
It comes after last month Lottie admitted her cosmetic procedures became a 'never-ending cycle' as she candidly opened up about using filler and having beauty treatments.
The influencer has had her lip and cheek filler dissolved and previously said she noticed the cosmetic procedures had 'got out of control'.
But in May Lottie revealed that she first turned to cosmetic treatments after 'losing her confidence' after her mum Johannah Deakin's death in 2016 at the age of 43.
She said she believes her mum 'sugarcoated' her diagnosis and she never realised 'how bad' she was until near the end.
Speaking to Giovanna Fletcher on her Happy Mum Happy Baby podcast, she revealed that becoming a mother herself has changed the way she views herself and given her her confidence back.
Lottie said: 'I felt like it was making me happy, you know? Losing the weight and feeling slimmer definitely made me feel better in myself.
'But in terms of the fillers and the beauty treatments, it was just a never-ending thing of trying to catch up with yourself.
'And, like, when you lose someone as close as your mum, it affects your confidence a lot.
'That's something I never expected, because if you think about it, your mum is the one person that cheers you on, that loves you unconditionally, that's there to give you that, you know, reassurance and support.
'So when you lose that, you kind of lose that, you know, confidence in yourself.
'So I think I was constantly chasing, trying to find that confidence, thinking I would find it in these, you know, fillers and how I looked.'
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Literary delights delivered direct to you after newsletter promotion In Intermezzo, the young chess genius Ivan checks repeatedly that his lover likes what he's doing, while his brother Peter half-exploits Naomi, a young woman who has sold pornographic images of herself and remains too willing to abase herself for men. But beneath these exterior sexual identities are their private bodily lives, and sex is the best means of growth they have. Rooney follows McBride in dizzyingly contorting her sentences: 'Deep pressing almost hurting and she felt him throbbing, wanting to, and she wanted that also, wet inside, image of silver behind her closed eyelids, jetting, emptying into her …' Rooney is surprised that people don't ask her more often about the place of sex in her novels; 'the erotic is a huge engine in the stories of all my books,' she has said. But it is in All Fours that the full possibilities of Carter's 'moral pornography' are realised. July's novel manages to be at once an ethnographic account of women's perimenopausal sexuality and a more darkly anti-realist tale of a woman living out her sexual fantasies. The narrator spends vast sums transforming a small-town hotel room into a sumptuous dreamscape, where she tests her capacities for love and lust with Davey, a beautiful, potent but determinedly chaste young dancer she meets at the gas station. The encounters with Davey are brilliantly, exuberantly realised – all the more so because July never loses sight of their comedy. In the absence of sex, they seek consummation elsewhere, and at one point Davey changes her tampon. The scene is both bathetically comic, intensely erotic, and unexpectedly moving. But it is once she and Davey part and the narrator has sex with sexagenarian Audra that the novel becomes incandescent. The narrator is home now, adjusting to her former life, but has negotiated a weekly night in the hotel. She seeks out Audra, who had a relationship with Davey years earlier, desperate to compare notes. 'Fantasies are all good and well up to a certain age,' Audra says, 'Then you have to have lived experiences or you'll go batty.' And so Audra describes her sexual past with Davey, while both women masturbate, an experience that, for the narrator, 'lit up new neural pathways, as if sex, the whole concept of it, was being freshly mapped'. As a sexual encounter, this is moving and original. As a vision of womanhood undergoing feats of change and confronting mortality, it's extraordinary. This scene takes us beyond realism. In her life at home, July's narrator is casually, matter-of-factly bound up in the sexual questions of her contemporary world: she has a nonbinary child and is anxiously aware how limited her sex life is by motherhood. But July uses the narrator's experiences in the hotel room to bend and test our sense of novelistic, psychological plausibility. It is a place where identity can be discarded and remade. Sex remains at the centre of much of the best fiction, and we need powerful fictions to show us what sex is or can become. This is where realism comes up against something stranger, and body and consciousness undo and affirm each other, because it can be at once so ordinary, and so transcendent. Lara Feigel is the author of Look! We Have Come Through! – Living with DH Lawrence (Bloomsbury).
