It's an absolutely glorious day outside, warm sunshine, cool air, pale crystalline-blue sky, more and more birds returning and singing. The air smells clean and sublime. Right now there's a private plane flying overhead and days like this combined with that sound make me think of being a little kid in Walla Walla, Washington; I remember lying out in the grass on pretty spring and summer days just like this one, listening to the wind in the trees and to private planes thrumming by overhead.
If it were any other day, I'd be outside in a jiffy, going for a walk, but I've been on the downside of health this last month. I came down with a rotten tummy virus around January 11, that cascaded me into being out of work for two weeks (I was able to do some work from home, thankfully), several trips to the doctor and the urgent care facility at Kaiser -- as well as multiple calls to the advice staff after hours.
I had been having pain off and on in my sternum and under my right ribcage, and one Sunday morning a few weeks ago I started feeling dizzy and hurting more; after another trip to Urgent Care (chauffeured by my father) and a follow-up ultrasound -- and, in addition, another trip to Urgent Care a week later -- an EKG and X-Rays, it turns out my gallbladder has finally gone kaput.
I had a terrible attack four and half years ago, resulting in my brother -- who was living with me at the time -- needing to rush me to the hospital around two in the morning. I had awakened in serious pain and feeling like I'd had 32 chili cheese dogs just prior to going on as many whirly rides at a county fair; I finally did manage to throw up -- several times -- and relief didn't come. Generally, the thought is, If I could just throw up, I'll feel so much better! -- but, it didn't work that way that time. That's when I knew I was in trouble.
The suggestion was to have it out then, but all the surgeon could do was repeat himself by saying, "I think you should take it out on the possibility you might have this happen again."
"You mean it will happen again?" I asked.
"Maybe," was his reply.
"So there's no guarantee, then."
"You might have another attack -- and you might never have one again."
"So why do I need to have my gallbladder removed -- right now?"
"Because," the surgeon said again, "you might have one again. Someday."
I declined; the idea of having surgery maybe possibly perhaps on the off chance you might / might not just didn't sit well with me.
But apparently I'm now carrying a small bag of marbles in me, many of which are apparently half a centimeter in size. My current physician suggested surgery, and my reply this time was, "Yes, please."
I was, however, on the fence for awhile about it, but after being awake all night feeling my gallbladder spasming like it was spitting out desperate Morse code, I decided it was definitely time. Technically, that was when I sent my doctor an email that said, Yes, please. Get this thing out of me.
I blame my father. I have no other reason for gallbladder disease other than my inheriting his clunker of one. I've always eaten well, and don't have a smidgen of a lifestyle that would result in developing it. The last possibility of it was family history. I.e. -- Dad. Apparently his started misbehaving when he was 17, and it wasn't until about 15 -- give or take -- years ago he had his out on an emergency basis while on business in Taipei. It was so bad for him, a stone had gotten lodged causing pancreatitis and internal gangrene. I really do not wish to have that experience.
My father has a theory of "reverse genetics", in that he did not develop certain traits until after I was born, and I told him he couldn't claim that this time for his own malfunctioning gallbladder, consider that, when he was 17, I wasn't even a gleam in his eye yet.
"True," he said. "So it's your inheritance."
Thanks, Dad. I'll be sure to not spend it all in one place....
(The last thing he saw before he fell asleep prior to his surgery was a fly going by...sorta sums up the conditions at the hospital there!)
So, consequently, I've been feeling particularly under the weather these last weeks; it doesn't matter what I eat now..anything can cause this stupid thing to have a fit. I had sushi the other night and it threw a minor tantrum. A plate of mostly raw veggies and a Morning Star "burger" (all very low-fat!) and it had a fit. It's okay during the day, but, at night, it makes it hard to sleep. I was prescribed vicodin a few weeks ago for the pain so I could sleep, and I ended up having an "adverse reaction" to it; instead of knocking me out cold, I wound up as wired as if I'd had five espressos right before bed, having a racing heart and I kept breaking out in hot flashes and sweating. I didn't fall asleep until after 5:30 that morning, causing me to miss more work.
I haven't felt rested and fully well in over a month, and, after doing research about issues that can arise from having a factory-defective gallbladder, it seems a lot of my other health complaints could very easily be stemming from it. My surgeon (she's actually an intern, but I liked her right off the bat) said that I'll easily feel much, much better shortly after it comes out.
Amen, sister. Amen to that.
Some days are better than others, but usually I just want to sleep and stay still...hence my being inside on this glorious day.
Although it's laproscopic, the surgery information says to give myself about 5-10 days of recovery time, still. My hope is to have my new laptop by then so I can work from home (I can do it on this one, but it's somewhat on the laborious side due to the screen being so small). If not, this laptop will do -- plus I have my brand spankin' new PlayStation 3, which my brother convinced me to purchase.
I mentioned I was going to use my Christmas gift money for a Blu-Ray player, particularly one that had the ability to stream Netflix movies; Andrew suggested I get the PlayStation 3 since "you can also play games!"
Yes, I like a good computer game, but I don't really need that ability. But then he started explaining exactly what else the snazzy little thing can do, I decided to do so. In addition to being one of the top-rated Blu-Ray players out there, you can also purchase and store movies on its 120GB hard drive (there's also a 250GB model) -- as well as music and photos. There's also a multitude of other things it can do (like browse the Internet!), and you can even swap out the hard drive for a larger one as it's just a standard laptop drive. There's even a utility on the machine to transfer your data -- but you can also hook up external drives and store more movies on them and access them through the player.
It's pretty sweet.
I'm hoping I can do what my brother did with his media center (which is essentially what the PS3 can be), and that's load all my DVDs onto an external drive and store them that way...I'm running out of room to store my DVD boxes, and I'm starting to need to get a rack of some sort -- and I don't really have the room for one.
The streaming Netflix ability is really cool, too. I'm working my way through Torchwood -- a spin-off from the "new" Doctor Who show -- and have a bunch of other things lined up as well. I also watched my first Blu-Ray movie today, Moon, which is excellent. I upgraded my Netflix account to one DVD -- Blu-Ray or standard -- out at a time (and as many as I want in a month) and unlimited streaming time. That was just $6.00 more than what I was already paying.
I also used the rest of my gift money to get some new, good-quality speakers to plug into my television (it's really nice to finally get the full use of its HD capabilities) so now I have really good sound, too. I also got a standard-looking remote for the PS3; you can use the game controller, but it's sort of awkward. I ended up paying a whole whopping $13 of my own money to get all that.
I mentioned to a co-worker I'd gotten the PS3, "But mostly for the Blu-Ray capabilities," I said.
"Not to play games, of course," he said.
"No," I said. "Never."
He burst out laughing and said, "Yeah. Just like people only get Playboy for the articles."
"Yes -- exactly!"
So game playing ability aside (a bonus, just like the articles -- er, the pictures -- are in Playboy) it's an awesome little piece of technology. I will have plenty to watch as I'm recuperating after my surgery -- which is scheduled for March 11.
I think I may ask the surgeon if I can toss my gallbladder into the incinerator myself.
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