I decided to write all of this out in one place. It really starts about 9 years ago, when I was in high school. I kept having abdominal pain, and the doctors were having trouble figuring out what it was. After a few specialists, and lots of tests, they decided it might be my gallbladder. They did an ultrasound and a nuclear imaging test, and decided though I didn’t have actual gall stones, I did have “sludge”, and my gallbladder didn’t empty correctly, which could be leading to the pain. they said they didn’t want to remove it unless the attacks happened again, but that I should be careful about eating high fat foods, and if the attacks started again we’d reconsider.

I suspect the lowfat diet helped for a while- I learned which foods seemed to be the worst and avoided them. I had an occasional attack in college, but I didn’t want to re-start the process with a new doctor, so I just dealt with them- luckily they rarely last longer than 2 hours, and they were months or years in between.

Fast forward to March 2011. I had had 2 episodes that to me, felt like gallbladder attacks. I brought it up at my physical, with a new doctor( who I like). she didn’t seem very concerned, but said she’d do some bloodwork. She called me and said it came back fine. June 12 I had another bad attack- bad enough that we ended up in the ER. i explained my history, so they did an ultrasound. After remembering how much those hurt- your gallbladder is under your ribcage on the right, so they stick the wand up under your ribs- they determined I did indeed have gallstones. The ER doctor recommended  I have it removed, and gave me the name of a surgeon. while he was telling me, I was so relieved I was laughing. It was so nice to *finally* have someone say that yes, the problem was my gallbladder, and yes, they could fix it! He also sent me home with a prescription of Zofran and Vicodin in case I had another attack.

I made an appointment to see the surgeon, and scheduled the surgery for July 19. enough time to prepare for the time off work, and not miss too many things I had scheduled. If only life worked like that. Almost exactly a week later, June 20, I landed back in the ER. Even the Vicodin wasn’t helping the pain, I waited almost 3 hours, and it wasn’t stopping. an additional ultrasound and CAT scan later, they determined one of the stones had become lodged in the duct, and they wanted to remove my gallbladder. Today. I notified everyone at work and my family, and they got me admitted to the hospital. where we waited. and waited. I had been in since 6 am, and by 3 pm no one knew what was going on. Eventually, around 4 pm, the nurse let me know they had scheduled me for 5:15 pm… the next day. Oh, and by the way, I still wasn’t allowed to eat or drink (that would make about 48 hours total). I was NOT happy. I convinced her to call the surgeon, who apologized for the wait but said they have more urgent patients, and said I WAS allowed to eat until midnight that night. MUCH better.

It was my first time ever being overnight in a hospital. I did not enjoy it. they frequently woke me up to take my vitals (it’s amazing how much lower your blood pressure is at 2 am hen you’re mostly asleep) and change my IV and such. Oh, and my roommate! An older woman, who had diverticulitis. she had a steady stream of visitors and phone calls- she had only been admitted to get a colonoscopy! Also she watched coverage of the Casey Anthony trial 24/7, even left it on all night. The only good news was they were able to get me in for surgery a few hours early. I went in around 3:30.

But of course the drama couldn’t end there! they had me prepped and ready to go in, I’d met the whole team and answered the same questions 5 billion times, when the power went out. They had generators, of course, but they’re not allowed to *start* procedures on generator power. Apparently the state had required them to go onto generator power- I never heard why. So we were delayed another half hour or so. When they finally got me in, it was a blur. There was no dramatic counting backwards from 10 like on tv, I remember the mask over my face, and that’s it. Next I knew I was waking up in recovery.

My first concern, of course, was that they had done the procedure laproscopically. I was terrified they’d have to do an open incision. The nurse kindly reassured me. I got a little pain medicine, and then they told me I was allowed to go home, which I was overjoyed about. The idea of another night in the hospital made me sick. They said I ‘d be better off at home, since I was supposed to sit up and move around (carefully) as much as possible.

We picked up my prescriptions, and went home. I felt pretty good, until I got into bed and realized I couldn’t get up. Ha. My abdominal muscles were total jelly. I couldn’t even get up after sitting on the couch without Rob’s help. The smallness of the incisions amazed me, though. The 3 on my abdomen were tiny, less than an inch each. Even the one over my bellybutton was only about 2 inches- that one hurt the most, though. Sleeping was the hardest part of the recovery, easily. Lying all the way down was uncomfortable- did I mention I had a horrible cold? Lying down flat I couldn’t cough, and had trouble breathing. The second night I actually slept sitting up on the couch- it was the only comfortable thing. But even though the days seemed long, I healed fast. The surgery was on Tuesday night, and I was back at work (from home) the next Monday.

I also want to mention the awesome support from my friends and family. Rob kept my family updated, and they all called to check on me and see if they could help. My in-laws sent a really nice gift basket, and my co-workers sent flowers. My “invisible” friends from snopes discovered a link on the hospital website where you can send emails to the patient. the hospital prints them out and delivers them- I cried when they delivered me over 30 printed emails, during that second horrible day of my stay. I have the best friends!

At this point, 2 weeks later, I’m pretty much healed externally. 2 of the incisions look like they could be minor cat scratches! The other 2 (including the bellybutton one) are still scabbed and will probably scar more, I plan on getting some vitamin E. I’m supposed to take it easy, especially as far as lifting for the next few weeks still, but I had my follow up with the surgeon and he said I was healing perfectly. The best thing is-I haven’t tried too much yet- that I seem to be able to eat the higher-fat foods I’ve been avoiding for so many years.

There were a few points where I was so discouraged or in pain that were awful, but I am SO glad it’s done.

My snazzy wristbands: