I have debated how to approach this subject, and I will have multiple posts on this, due to there being different parts, but alas, it is time that I start this, so here I go. I had Gallbladder Disease, you might be like me, thinking oh no big deal, it’s the gallbladder, take it out and move on, or leave it in and quit complaining. I wish it were that easy. I will say it, admit it, I could not empathize because I have always led a relatively healthy life. Now, here I am, turning 35, and I begin falling apart. I will take you through my journey, where I am hoping I can help someone else going through this. Reach out if you are, no question is off limits, I have never shied away from speaking about poop, after this is went to a whole new level.
I started noticing that I was not feeling well, or I should say I was losing my appetite, back in March of 2015. I had went through a break-up, and attributed it to that. But then as the summer came, I was losing more weight, and feeling worse. At that point I had started smoking marijuana to help with the appetite, so again, I just figured it was a bit of depression, or I dunno, anything but what it actually was, me getting sick. October came, I was going to see my ex, we were speaking, talking about getting back together, I was nervous, to say the least, so I just figured my lack of appetite was due to that. As I look back now at pictures I can see it in me, the paler skin, darker eyes, I was not well, but still did not want to admit it. Being that I am a fitness trainer, I am active all day, I noticed my energy was not what it once was. I had a friend come in to visit from Boston, I was not the best hostess, I just did not feel well, but could not put my finger on why. Then came Christmas, and the worst pain of my life.
Well, technically it was the day after Christmas, I thought I had the flu, I had all of the signs, vomiting, diarrhea, fever, but the one thing that does not usually happen with the flu, the pain. I am generally a pretty tough girl, I have two older brothers, for me to complain about pain, take it serious. I have had some weird injuries, including injuring the ligament in my foot while vacationing in Jamaica, bad enough that they put it in a soft cast until I could get home and have an x-ray taken on it. I walked around on that thing the entire day, and let me tell you, no amount of alcohol covered the pain, and that is all I had to take it away. No one even knew how serious it was until I was actually at the nurse at the resort I was staying at, saying it was not getting better. I have added pictures for illustration.
I actually plan to do a whole post on my random injuries, more on that later. So back to Christmas, 2015, here I am in the worst pain in my life, refusing to go the ER because, well, because our health care system is not the greatest, and I do not want to spend the money to be told I had the flu, and to go home, get rest, and drink plenty of fluids. Worse decision of my life.
It’s ironic, because had I went to the ER that day they probably would have found an obstruction, in the form of gallstones, and did emergency surgery. As it happens, I would have to wait until April to have my gallbladder removed, and that was a battle. Now, had they done emergency surgery it probably would have been laparoscopic cholecystectomy, meaning three incision points, instead of the one small one I ended up with, I would take those over what I went through any day of the week though, I am not that vain. Back to December, I ended up taking one, maybe two sick days, but then I was working a lot, as we were short after the holiday, and I was covering many classes. Teaching up to 20 classes in a week, and working at the desk, at the studio I work at. This lasted over a week, then my co-workers started coming back, and I headed to the Urgent Care. The doctor was concerned but all of my tests were coming back “normal” something that soon became my worst nightmare. He told me if I still felt bad to come back and he would do an ultra sound of my stomach. I did not have a primary care doctor at the time, and I felt that might be a little more important to acquire, after some research I found someone who would take my insurance, and off I went. Well, a couple of weeks later. We are now into late January, and I am seeing my doctor for the fist time, he is ordering blood tests, and an abdominal scan, which I had in early February, the earliest I could get in. And the results, gallstones.
Then I knew, I knew what my issue was. I knew why I was so pale, dropping weight, being in constant pain, having issues eating, relying on marijuana to get me through my day (as much as I was able), I understood. I thought, okay, I have gallstones, they are going to take my gallbladder, and then I will feel all better…put the brakes on, not so fast. I am sent for test number two, a HIDA scan, which tests how the function of how bile excretes. The test takes quite a while, they inject something in me, then I have to stay completely still, like an MRI, and wait for my gallbladder to make an appearance. Once it shows itself I am given a “milkshake” (fancy word for Ensure), to drink, so it can do it’s test. I lay back down, finish my test, and come to find out, I passed it. Yep, my test was “normal” there’s that word again. Here is what I learned, normal is 30% and above, and I came up at 31%, so I would NOT be having surgery. I was beside myself, and finally just said, but what about the pain. The response from my doctor, you still have pain, yes, I laid back, he pushed on where my gallbladder was and I about jumped off of the table. Okay, off to the surgeon you go. I actually met with the surgeon fairly quickly as my doctor sent in the referral around February 23rd, and I saw my surgeon on March 2nd. But I quickly learned my fight was not over. I just wanted to feel better.
While I actually ended up liking my surgeon, I was definitely not a fan when we met. I was sick, it was not just one thing, I had several symptoms. It did not matter, and to this day I really do not why they fought me so hard. I don’t know if it is because I am so healthy otherwise (all of the tests were “normal” remember), or if she just did not want to take another gallbladder out of a younger woman, I really have no idea. Somehow, (I don’t know if convinced is the right word), but I got my surgery scheduled, in just over a month. Oh my, how am I going to deal with this another month.
At this point I am smoking marijuana literally as much as I can, I am in pain, have no appetite, and life just sucks in general. I did not have a social life, I spent my time not at work at home, the thought of going out was just too much. There were a few mandatory type situations I went to, and there were some okay days, honestly I just tried to make the best of it. My clients were all concerned, some days I blended in with the colors of the wall, my circles were really bad around my eyes, they knew, they saw me all of the time. They saw my energy decreasing, sometimes it was hard to stand, but I pushed through. There were a couple of bad days, where I did go to the hospital, hoping they would take it earlier, each time I was told that it needed to come out, but I had to wait. I was given fluids, pain meds, made comfortable, and then sent on my way. But EVERY ER doctor I saw said the same thing, it needed to come out, why did they get that, but not my doctors. Once I was having a hard time drinking fluids so I headed to urgent care just to re-hydrate, who goes to the Urgent Care requesting an IV so they can make it to work, this girl. I was given my fluids, and told that my gallbladder needed to go, once again. At this point I am wracking up the hospital bills, still working full time, and miserable. About a week before my surgery I could not handle it anymore, and requested that I be taken off of work at that time. They obliged, I felt bad, but I felt bad, I needed to feel better.
The day of surgery comes, finally, I am so ready for this. I check in, and wait (for like ever) to be taken back. And then they finally come and get me, take me through the corridors, into the cold, cold operating room, where they were going to remove my gallbladder via Robot Surgery. One incision point, through my belly button, simple, easy, quick, the end of one road, but not the end of the journey. Stay tuned for part 2, after the surgery, it is not all butterflies and rainbows as I had hoped.
Be Your Authentic You 