The Unmitigated Gall

Last Friday, as I was crawling into bed, I felt the stirrings of what I presumed would be another painful, but short-lived bout with my gallbladder. I think I reported here in May(ish?) when I had my first ER trip because of the dang thing.

Since then, I'd had an attack here and there - but not so many that it was impacting life overly and I learned what foods to avoid such that I was doing all right, by and large.

Of course, I had a pretty terrible attack whilst driving back from my weekend in South Carolina for a friend's daughter's wedding. Nothing quite more fun than having that occur while driving. And then, the following week another two, shorter, attacks.

But then Friday hit. And nothing worked. The meds that usually kept things at bay, did not. (Probably owing to the fact that I could keep zero things down. Within moments of anything hitting my stomach, the revolt began, and I was rushing for the nearest basin-shaped object to catch its volcanic expulsion.)

I white-knuckled it through the night, finally crawling back into bed around 5 a.m. Saturday exhausted enough to sleep despite the pain. And I tried to gut through the day when I awoke.

A three, I finally gave up and made the hubs take me to the ER.

Sweet, sweet pain relief.

And an ultrasound and some bloodwork and other tests and...oh hey, we're going to admit you for surgery tomorrow (Sunday.)

I'm sorry, what?

Yeah. Good stuff. 

At that point, I'd had enough pain meds that I seriously considered just heading home and calling it good. They did give that option, with the reminder that choosing it meant next time, I'd be starting over.

And there was no hesitation that there'd be a next time. In fact, they were reasonably confident "next time" would be on or before Thanksgiving.

So. I pondered. And they went to check on something. And it lasted long enough that the pain started to work its way back through the good drugs and I realized that the pain wasn't actually gone, it was just hidden. And I said, "Sign me up for gallbladder donation."

Hubby went home when I got to my room (shout out to the hospital for that not taking all night - honestly, I was very pleased with how fast things moved). They kept me happily drugged up and let me sleep (! I didn't know you were allowed to actually sleep more than two hours at a time in the hospital. I think they only woke me once?) And I dozed off and on most of Sunday as I waited for my sweet, sweet surgery.

And it pretty much says it all that the post-op pain is a laugh compared to the pain that sent me in in the first place.

Came home Monday mid-day. Friends showed up to take over Thanksgiving for us. So I have been parked on the couch watching everyone handle everything with aplomb and doing very little for myself. And really, I could get used to it. (No. No I could not. It's driving me mad. But I did NOT take it easy like I should have after my hysterectomy and I have learned my lesson.)

Fast-forwarding to today, I am feeling very well indeed. Down to Tylenol a couple times a day. Still resting quite a lot and listening to my body say when it's time (again, annoying, because the plan was to lay tile this weekend. But yeah, no.) And if I never have pain like the gallbladder attack again? It will be too soon.