Oh the Pain!

Tuesday, April 23rd, 4:00 a.m.  I awake with a sharp pain in my stomach.  I'm talking about the kind of pain that I imagine would accompany the birth of the creature from the stomach in the movie Alien.  It jolted me upright in the bed.  I tried to stand, no better.  I tried to sit, no better.  I tried to lay back down, no better.  I tried pooping, peeing, drinking some water, no better.   After about 15 minutes of what can only be described as pain beyond that of childbirth, I go to the bottom of the stairs and call for Andrew.  Clearly my shrill awoke him with such a tone that his first response was "Do I need to call 911?"  Yes.  Although I didn't think I was having a heart attack, I knew if I let Andrew drive me to the ER at 4:00 a.m., I likely would have.

The ambulance probably arrived in 10 minutes, but it felt like 10 hours.  I was crying at this point, desperately trying to control my breathing so as not to appear like a panicked, overweight hypochondriac.  Thank goodness I had worn a sports bra and clean underwear to bed with my Capri pajamas, because there was no way I was going to be able to change into anything else.  My blood sugar was good, even my blood pressure was not alarmingly high.  I gave my history through my labored breathing and when they asked if it was possible I was pregnant I laughed hysterically, which hurt.  Mustering all the strength I had left, I told them I was only pregnant if God had chosen a wretched sinner to use as a vehicle for Christ's second coming. 

I get to the ER and the doctor meets us at the door as the ambulance is offloading me.  I quickly tell him I had a gastric bypass 18 months ago.  He asked if I had my gallbladder.  Yes.  Ever had trouble with it.  Nope.  Well you probably do now.  Great.  Can you take it out right now?  I haven't eaten after midnight so I am ready for surgery.  The ultrasound proved him right, I had gallstones, also known as gallbladder disease.  But no surgery that day.  Have to see the surgeon.  So they send me home with drugs.  Thank goodness since Andrew had to drive me home.

Two days later and just two days shy of the 18 month mark from bariatric surgery I parted company with my gallbladder, and had the same surgeon, Dr. Richard, remove it.  It was kind of like drive through (or dry cleaning) surgery.  I was in by 8:00 and out by noon. 

So it's only April and I have already meet the out of pocket expense for myself and almost the whole family at this point.  I think Gwinnett Medical Center will soon be renamed to Carson Medical Center.  At least a wing should be named for me.  Or a pew in the chapel.