Attack of the Gallbladder

Well, I am a few ounces lighter this morning. Yesterday I had my gallbladder removed, as well as a hernia repaired. I am stuck here in my bed, watching the second hour of the Today Show, trying to convince my 2-year-old that Mommy can't hold him because of her boo-boo. I figured it was best to lock the door and write. I am also on a good deal of Vicodin...hopefully I can blog coherently. And if not, it could turn out to be a good piece of humor.

If you have ever had a gallbladder attack, I'm sorry. It is horribly, horribly painful. My story started a few months ago when I had terrible pains in my abdomen. I thought I had food poisoning. It was about 7:30am and I was getting ready to start my teaching day. After 20 minutes, it still wasn't going away. I called the secretary and asked for a sub -- something I would NEVER do. Thankfully, they found someone to cover for me and I drove the 35 minutes home, sweating and cramping. As soon as I walked in the door, I threw up twice. I took off my clothes, which were drenched in sweat, and got into bed. The only way I could sit without excruciating pain was on my knees, hunched over. I fell asleep and woke up 2 hours later, in the same position. The majority of the pain was gone, but I still had that ache...just enough to remind me that something painful had happened.I went to school the next day, convinced that it was food poisoning.

Two days later was Good Friday. We had off and were packing our bags to head to the Outer Banks for a week with my parents. I was feeling good...the "food poisoning" was a distant memory -- until about 7pm. It happened again. Gut-wrenching pain for several hours. It went away and I fell asleep.

The next morning I made sure not to eat. We had a 6-hour drive down to Nags Head and I was afraid of another episode. At this point, I thought I had a really bad case of gas. However, I knew in the back of my mind that it had to be more than that. We were about 2 hours into the trip (in the middle of nowhere) when my abdomen seized up. I was doubled over in pain. We stopped at a disgusting Royal Farms where I went to the bathroom, bought some Gas-X and some yogurt, and got back in the car to ride out the latest episode. I think I said every curse word in the book, yelled at my husband for hitting every bump he could find, and cried. NOT a pleasant way to start Spring Break.

We finally made it down to the condo at Nags Head. It was a beautiful townhouse on the beach...but I couldn't enjoy it because -- you guessed it -- another attack. The hubby was getting frustrated and said, "Fine. If it's that bad, let's go to the hospital." Before he even finished the sentence, I had my flip flops on and was on my way to the car.

The OBX Hospital was two streets over. When we walked in there were only 2 people in the waiting room (I have never been in an ER that wasn't jam-packed). It seemed so out of place to be sitting in a hospital in a resort town. The ocean was just blocks away, people were driving by with beach chairs and boogie boards strapped to their cars...and I was hunched over in pain.

We had only been waiting about 30 minutes when we were taken back to get checked out. I sat on the bed and answered all of the questions, still writhing in pain. The nurse said, "I'm about to make you very comfortable." She put an IV in (that wasn't the comfortable part) and within 30 seconds of hooking up the IV bag, I was pain-free. It was the most glorious, amazing, unbelievable relief I have ever felt. I swear I heard the song "Hallelujah" playing in my head (I probably did...that Percocet is good stuff).

A very young doctor came in and we chatted. I was quite enjoyable to be around, at that point. He said he suspected it was my gallbladder. He sent me back for x-rays, which confirmed that I had many, many stones. The reason that I was in so much pain was because some of the stones were stuck in pathway. He wanted to get my gallbladder out THAT night. However, because of the runaway stones, that had to do a procedure first called an ERCP. Being a small-town hospital, they were not capable of performing that procedure. He said I could either go up to Virginia to have it done, or we could go home. They discharged me with Percocet and an antibiotic.

For those of you who know me, you know I can be very stubborn. I don't often heed others' advice. In my mind, turning around and driving right BACK to Delaware with a 5-year-old and a 2-year-old -- not an option. The Percocet made me think I was "ok". I convinced the hubby that we would call my doctor on Monday and then we would at least have a few days of vacation. I was so excited to spend spring break with my parents. I was going to salvage whatever time I could.

The next few days were uneventful. I had my new BFF (Percocet) and we actually got to enjoy some time in OBX. We had Easter dinner, went on a plane ride, sat on the beach. I got an appointment with a GI doctor for Thursday. I was going to ride it out until then. I did have to go to the walk-in medical center for more Percocet, but other than that...life was good.

Fast forward to the following week. My GI doctor scheduled me for an ERCP on a Wednesday. In dummy terms, an ERCP is when they stick a tube down your throat and suck out the stones...at least, that's what I understand it to be. I was going to have to go to Temple University Hospital in Philly because my doctor wasn't sure he could get all of the stones. Fortunately, we ended up doing it in Dover. It all went well...except they cracked my molar in the process. Nothing is ever easy!

I was supposed to meet with a surgeon the next week to schedule removal of the gallbladder. Because I was out of sick days at work, I couldn't get in to meet with him until June. When I finally met him, we scheduled my operation for July 13 (yes, it was a Friday). I couldn't quite get my head around the fact that a doctor would be cutting inside of MY body and pulling out MY gallbladder!

The surgery went well. I had about 20-30 more stones that had already collected in my gallbladder since April. I woke up with a terrible headache and my hubby at my side. The nurses were awesome. I know that our local hospital gets a bad rap, but I have never had a bad experience there. They were sweet and helpful...I am afraid I wasn't as sweet to them. Oops.

Now I have 4 incisions in my belly that mark the end of a long and painful journey. Goodbye potato chips, french fries, and hello to having one less organ to carry around. Can't wait to go weigh myself.