Say Goodbye to My Gallbladder Now
Because I’m going into surgery at 7:30 tomorrow morning. I went to meet with the surgeon today at 3, and he said, basically, in a nutshell, paraphrased, “Jesus Christ, we need to take that shit out of you as soon as humanly possible.”
Luckily, one of his patients had flaked on her 7:30 AM surgery tomorrow, so I ran down to Preadmissions and, in a 4-hour jiffy, was set up to take her spot.
Whew.
I love my boyfriend, my cousin Helen, and my friends Letty and Brie for offering to help me out with the hauling of my kids to and from school. Y’all rock. (Wait by your phones, okay?)
The doctor said some people actually get over the surgery in as little as one day. I’m going to see if I can do that. I’m ambitious about it. But he also said he’s going to have to do the three-hole laparascopic on me, and that the third hole will be bigger than usual, since my gall stone is bigger than usual.
Oh, shoot… I forgot to ask them if they’ll save it in a jar for me to look at it when we’re done. I need to ask them tomorrow.
My Poor Coworkers Need Surgery, Too
Yesterday, on my routine drive home from Austin (had to pick up kids from their babydaddy visitation), I made the mistake of eating tater tots from Sonic. At around 6 PM, my gallbladder started hurting. It hurt all the way home, through two Tylenols and one Aleve. After putting the kids to bed, I took a hydrocodone/acetaminophen and an anti-spasm pill, and it continued to hurt. Very badly. I cried. I writhed. I rolled on the floor. My boyfriend came over to hug me and feel sorry for me. I took another anti-spasm pill and finally fell asleep at midnight. At one, I woke up and the gallbladder was cranking up again, so I took another hydrocodone and conked out til my alarm went off at 5:30. I woke up feeling serene. Very, very serene.
While I showered and dressed and nagged my kids to do the same, my serenity slowly morphed into too-much-medication loopiness and nausea. I couldn’t decide whether or not to go to work. Finally, guilt won out and I did.
At 8:40, I walked over to my coworkers’ desks and told them that I didn’t think I could make it. I needed to go home and back to sleep.
My coworkers quizzed me about my symptoms. Then, they proceeded to tell me, as they have before, how they have the same symptoms, but worse. And that they’ve been having them for years. Since before I was born, probably. I sympathized with them and expressed the wish that they could be the ones having their gallbladders removed. Alas, unfortunately, they can’t; I guess because their doctors are too incompetent to properly diagnose them.
I feel so bad for them. They suffer so much, and hardly complain. If their stomachs hurt worse than mine, then they really are brave, to go to work on the days that I call in sick. Hopefully something can be done to ease their suffering soon.
Oh, and one of my other coworkers told me he hoped I’d feel better soon. Obviously, he has never known the pain of coming to work with gallstones, undiagnosed or not.
Meanwhile
I have to pick out suitable underwear for tomorrow. Just in case. I’m thinking either leopard-print thong, or Hello Kitty gingham thong. I would ask y’all to vote, but I probably won’t be able to read your comments until tomorrow afternoon. So don’t even bother to write and wish me well. Just think good thoughts, and get your own regular check-ups. And tell your doctor if you ever have pain and pressure under your ribs, on your right side. And check back soon, in case they let me keep my gallstone and I post a picture of it on the site.
