The day I broke up with my gallbladder

September 29, 2015  •  Leave a Comment

This day was coming however things took a turn for the worse two weeks ago and my ass landed in the ER – yet again..

Three weeks ago I had dinner like normal and BAM…pains kicked in. Thought awesome, here we go yet again. Warned my brother that there may be a hospital trip later but the pains stayed constant and didn’t get any worse.

Next day I head up to the shops to send off some stuff I sold on Ebay and visited my bro. He didn’t sleep the night before waiting for a call from me which didn’t happen so I bought him a chocolate bar. That’s what you do right? Pains were coming and going but not getting severe enough.

Friday comes along and out of frustration I call Health Direct for advice on what to do. She tells me to see the GP right away, so I do. 3 hours later I have the GP asking me (actually it was almost lecturing me in disbelief) why I’m not at the hospital right now. So I told him, mentioned the surgery is just over a week away and could I get some pain killers. I really didn’t see what else he could really do anyways considering the time. That night I go to see some friends in town and the pains just kept increasing and in that time got 3 more lecturers on why the hell I’m out when I should be at home/hospital/somewhere getting better. I even got a “please don’t die” talk from one friend. And here I was thinking I was overly dramatic! But like normal, the pains went away by midnight and I got some sleep. My main goal was just to make it through Saturday because I had work that night.

Saturday started off ok but with an extra surprise that had me calling Health Direct again for advice. This would turn out to be the biggest mistake of my life. I get told I’m fine and it’s most likely something I ate – I had a banana that day. Pretty sure that doesn’t suddenly turn things orange!! Even google told me if you have gallbladder issues and it’s orange there’s a fairly big problem. But I stupidly listened to her and went in to work, but come 6pm the pains all started up again and got worse. I spent the night with my camera in one hand and clutching my ribs with the other. Come midnight it calmed down again.

Sunday things are repeating and decided nope, I’m just going straight to the ER! My aunt drove up and I met her there and we waited a couple hours until I could finally go in and see someone. I was instantly plugged into machines to check my blood pressure which for the only time in the next 5 days would be high (122/80 is apparently hypertension), and was hooked up to a saline drip. As if that wasn’t going to end up on snapchat! Obligatory hospital selfies are a must. On the other side of the curtain we got to listen to some woman bitching about her health and the more she talked the more I was convinced she probably had my issue only I’m healthy by comparison. She sat there quite happily telling the nurses how she binge eats twice a day and it’s all fatty foods and then she ends up really sick and she’ll eat smaller healthier meals but she really doesn’t see the point because she doesn’t feel any better…that’s probably because you’ve already clogged every artery with fat! Several times we heard about how she’s a flight attendant and 29. But apparently nobody has ever been able to work out what’s wrong with her and she wasn’t going home until they worked it out. About 2 hours later a nurse returned to tell her they are more than sure its her gallbladder. CALLED IT!!

By 2am I get told I’m being booked in and getting a room and my aunt headed home. Thankfully the beds were a bit more comfortable up there but it wasn’t like I could sleep anyway. I had to fast on top of everything and was really regretting not drinking more earlier. I had an ultra sound to check for a blockage and two hours later the surgeon has come to see me, lets me know I’m jaundiced and that there’s a stone blocking somewhere (My guess liver since I turned into a Simpsons character) and get told I’m having surgery today and that it would include a tube being shoved down my throat to find the runaway stone. I freaked. Anxiety hasn’t been my friend leading up to this but I was just in tears and couldn’t stop. The operating room the guy gives me something to calm me down but mostly I think he just drugged me so I’d pass out faster. It worked. 8pm I get taken back to my room and my aunt was sitting there waiting for me. Surgery was a couple of hours apparently. I was too groggy to really know what the hell was happening other than I was sore, I apparently had two cannulas in my arm now and there was an oxygen mask on my face. I also had a new room mate who apparently needed her tv on really loudly and only turned it off when the nurse came to check on me. The hatred began that night.

Tuesday I finally got to eat. I also realised fully then I had a drain in my side and it was so uncomfortable I spent half the day waiting for it to be taken out only to be told nope maybe tomorrow. The food was an ordeal on it’s own and just made me wonder if the kitchen staff have full aneurysms when they get vegans as patients. I don’t eat red meat as it makes me sick, so does dairy but I can have butter on a sandwich and this was just too much for them to grasp. I felt bad for the lady who had to take my orders because they wouldn’t even listen to her and would get nurses to ask me and still manage to make the order weird. So for lunch I’m meant to get a super bland chicken sandwich. I get sent two, one with butter and one without. Honestly I couldn’t tell either way but why I needed two sandwiches was anyone’s guess. Then dinner was chicken. Then the next day the options were chicken or fish and I wasn’t about to have the “fish gives me headaches” talk because this was all too hard already. Food consisted of chicken or eggs for each meal. I love eggs but I got bored really fast. The new roommate was older and incredibly annoying. Like if I wasn’t stuck in bed I may have smothered her while she slept. Everything about her was annoying. She couldn’t fathom how to turn a bathroom light on even when I told her how too she ignored me and called out to the nurse in the hallway for help. She would gulp her water down like there was a microphone lodged in her throat. Every meal it was “I can’t eat this because of my teeth…” – they’re false. The piece of toast wasn’t a damn brick! Then I would hear her slurp her cornflakes for what seemed like an eternity. I was so glad when she finally had her surgery because I finally got to sleep that night (I hadn’t slept since being admitted). It wasn’t the best but it was still something.


Wednesday saw the drain finally get taken out. I always thought taking my bra off was the best feeling in the world. It comes 2nd to having a drain removed. The noisy old bat got to leave that morning and the next patient came in. Young girl who was pretty quiet, even with 3 visitors at once they barely made any noise. By then though I was feeling forever alone and having a whinge to a friend and she ended up surprise visiting me. Thursday morning I was allowed to go home. I was staying at my aunt’s til I felt better. That basically lasted a week and the tears were back and I cried myself a river in her loungeroom from stress until she came home and it was another trip to the ER/After hours GP for a check up and home, where I’m still randomly crying or not sleeping until stupid hours of the morning (mostly when the sun rises) and randomly sore.

Every blood test during those few days to check my liver had to be from my right arm and I basically looked like a crack addict by the time I left I was bruising so badly. I was getting injections in my legs as well to stop clotting and they left more bruises. It took about 12 hours for my left arm to remember how to work once the cannula was taken out, I suddenly lost the ability to work out distances and hit myself in the face at least once while trying to do something to my hair. Every single blood pressure reading was really low as well, I’m not even sure if that’s normal for me because nobody has ever told me except when I’m in hospital. By Tuesday night/Wednesday they were bringing in a manual reader to do it and try and get a better reading then then just started doing it from my left arm because it’s closer to my heart.

So now it’s two weeks since surgery and in two more weeks I get to have a check up with the surgeon. I found a lump on Friday near my belly button scar but I’m keeping an eye on it until I see him. Hopefully it’s nothing more than scar tissue/or goes away by then. I’m on some super shitty diet too (ok in all seriousness it’s pretty much the same as what I eat now but without the comfort foods like cake and biscuits) where the only fun thing I can eat are Fruit Loops and lollies, which would be great if I liked lollies but I’m more a cake, chocolate and twisties girl and I can’t have them. I can’t have anything with more than 10% fat. I can have soft drink again but after four months I apparently don’t like coke anymore so if you need to kick that habit there you go – it won’t take long and you won’t feel a thing!

I’m currently miserable, cranky, depressed, could use more sleep, could use not being randomly sore, could really use cake, could use motivation to work on photos but I have none. Hopefully October improves. Everyone keeps insisting I need some good luck finally but mostly I laugh at them.



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