Two years ago today I had my gallbladder removed. I remember it as it was only yesterday…
I was living in an apartment with my kids after my husband and I separated and it was about, oh, 4 in the morning on August 7th when I was awaken by a stabbing pain in my stomach. I tried everything that I could think of to relieve this pain. I tried pacing the hallways and soaking in a hot bath, which really worked before. After about an hour the pain just brought me to tears and I knew I needed to see a doctor.
I called the kids dad and asked him to come get the kids so I could go out to the hospital. He told me he would be right over. I sat on my couch for hours and finally I lay on the floor, for some reason the hard floor was more comforting than the couch. Time just kept passing by and no sign of the kids dad. It was about 10 in the morning and he finally showed up and seen that I was laying on the floor and said if you were in that much pain why didn’t you just call an ambulance. I muttered back because I have 3 kids and their dad was going to be right over to watch them.
I ended up driving myself to the hospital where I must of looked sick and in pain because immediately they started an IV of morphine, my first time having any strong narcotics. After the IV I got carted to the ultrasound room where it was confirmed I had masses of gallstones both in my ducts and gallbladder. I asked the nice person observing my gallbladder to print me off a picture, in which they did.
I was going to need surgery. The surgeon came to my room and explained the procedure. He explained that I had a lot of gallstones and that he was going to try and do laparoscopic surgery but if when he tries and can’t get all the stones he will have to do open surgery.
I remember very well his voice and very well the complications to surgery…death. He explained that any time someone is under anesthesia there is a chance in death. I sat there alone thinking that the doctor told me I was going to not survive surgery.
I called my kids, mom and dad, my sister, my friends and told them I would be under the knife in less than 2 hours. I was seriously scared.
An hour passed and the nurse came in to tell me that they were going to postpone the surgery till tomorrow, August 8th, because there was an accident and the surgeon is, well, in surgery. Phew…this relieved me a bit until I thought of the date.
August 8th is my unlucky day. I just knew I wasn’t going to make it out alive. “Bladdy”, my gallbladder, had won; he got the best of me. Of course, I kept all these fears to myself.
The next morning I was prepped for surgery and I remember being asked if I had any jewelry on because it would have to be removed beforehand. I cringed and mumbled, yes, I have jewelry on. The nurse looked at my ears and my hands and asked where. I explained where and told her I was not removing my jewelry. She talked to the surgeon and he said we had to put sterile gauze over my piercings and I could keep them. Thankfully.
I remember being wheeled into the surgery room, I was still awake! Usually they sedate you before getting you to the surgical room. Than I hear count back from 100. So I did 100…99….98…97…I was out.
I woke up from surgery sick; anesthesia got the better of me. I was returned back to my room where I was afraid to look at my stomach, as I didn’t want to know if I had laparoscopic or open surgery. The surgeon came to visit me and explained everything when quickly and great. I had laparoscopic surgery.
It’s funny because a friend of mine visited me right after surgery and said her back was hurting and I joked it’s your gallbladder. Well it was. She had hers removed the next morning and was sent home within 4 hours of surgery, and I was left in the hospital for 5 days.
So thank you “Bladdy” for going on your merry way. I would love to say you are missed but that would be a lie. You caused much pain in my life and frankly I am glad that you are gone.
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