Maybe Not That Juicy…

 I’m one week post gallbladder removal and I absolutely still don’t have the energy to organize a really well-thought out post where the details are concerned but I will give it a go anyway because I’m really not going to be able to keep the details fresh otherwise. Pain is something our bodies are wired to forget and going through this, like having the stomach flu leading up to it, is definitely something I’m eager to put behind me.

First off, I’m super grateful to the whole of my team: my surgeon, the anesthesiologists, the nurses, all stellar. Normally I love to post names and details but I still feel protective of my life here and in no hurry for my past to ever find me. I’ve sent comments to the hospital to address those people directly so they know who they are and they know I’m thankful and that’s what truly matters. 

The pre-op process is pretty simple. Check in, getting my ID bracelet, going to the lab for tests (if you’re a female, that is, because it’s a pregnancy test which is absolutely unnecessary for me but who ever believes you?), and waiting to be called back to what will be my recovery room later. I then meet my pre-op nurse who finds out when I’ve eaten and drank last, what medications or supplements I’ve taken or quit taking, what medications they will be giving me for pain then he has me change into the gown with all the fancy ports so he can put in my IV. The IV is then hooked up for hydration and also a first round of antibiotics, which is standard in most gallbladder surgeries but may not be deemed necessary for all. In my case, they just wanted to make sure the stomach flu would be cycled out and not cause issues.

The OR was still in prep so I waited in my room for another half hour before they came to wheel me back. Once there, they walked me through getting up on the slim table, making sure my gown’s ports were accessible, and placing a board under my feet and securing my arm out to my side. They would be operating in a reverse trachtenberg position which basically elevates you at the head instead of the feet. They secured the oxygen mask to my face and just had me breathe that in for a few minutes. In that time, I got to appreciate how a dozen people were milling around that room like perfect clockwork when any other group of people would be colliding in chaos.

The anthesiologist then informed me they were administering anesthesia and he asked me a couple questions; where my favorite vacation spot is and what I was going to dream about soon. The second one made me laugh and, even though my ears started buzzing, making me laugh must’ve helped me not feel the awful pressure like last time and I was out like a light.

When I woke, I didn’t open my eyes, heard the nurse telling my dad they would just let me sleep and he could come back around 1 or 2 when they could run my last rounds of antibiotics. I kind of just enjoyed the peace and kept my eyes closed for a while longer but when I did open my eyes, the post-op nurse had crackers and shortbread cookies and water for me. I probably had six more little packs, a refill of water, and a popsicle before they had me get up to try to pee hours later. No problem there. My doctor came in to let me know what was up, said the only issue to watch was that a bile duct was too short so we’d need to monitor for that in the coming months, make sure there is no narrowing, blockage, etc while it heals. Again, not anything I hadn’t known could be a risk. The symptoms are pretty telling too, a lot of pain and jaundice, neither of which would be hard to miss. I was plenty sore but didn’t have too much trouble getting around on my own. They let me get dressed on my own and then discharged me and wheeled me out to dad’s car. It went about as smoothly as I could hope.

Day 1 is always comparatively easy. The nerve blocks they give last at least 24 hours and that’s pretty much all I got. After that, terrible gas pain, both digestive and abdominal. This level of pain was a mainstay for 48 hours, made bearable with Norcos, but still not fun. Sleep did not come easy but even a couple hours sleep did make me feel noticeably better every time. I finally started getting good sleep around days 4-5. Day 5 is where I could finally get up out of bed without feeling pain in my abdomen. At no time did I find it unbearable. I was still able to do light housework, make food, do dishes, but I often asked for help to finish a task or just have them run my ice pack to and from the freezer. I mostly ate Jello, pudding, chicken noodle soup, in the first few days but then I started eating more regular foods, just in small amounts. 

As far as bowel movements go, I wasn’t sure what to expect. I was on the end of gastroenteritis so I still had diarrhea for the first three days. Then it stopped day four and… there was a TON of gas. lol I called it a night of endless farts and it was just HOURS of these reams of flatulence. But they didn’t actually smell much. No more BMs for 48 hours though so I started taking MiraLax because I had a bad feeling… that turned out to be true. Super painful but more solid and brown constipation that crippled me for like an hour, nausea and sweating too. But once that passed I felt SO much better. The following BMs have been in the morning each day and still not regular solid. All the same, no yellow and no more issues with having them. At no time post-op did I feel like I couldn’t make it to the toilet so there was no problem with urgency. I also knew that constipation and diarrhea both are typical adjustments to the bile changes.

I’m able to get up and get around more but I do get exhausted easily still. There is still some tenderness and I can’t bend or squat well or for very long. I am able to sit on the porch for a little while to pet the outside cat but sitting up too long still isn’t comfortable. There is bloating and gas and tenderness overall and I suspect it may be another week before I feel close to normal. I can kind of sleep on my sides but with a fatty bloated abdomen, the movement makes my incisions a little more tender and it feels weird so I end up on my back again for most of the night. I feel like I’ll sleep better once side sleeping isn’t so tender. 

I did want to go into incision and surgery details too but that’s a bit much for me at the moment. I’m getting heavy-eyed just doing this much. I may revisit that in the near future but I may be ready to just move into the next phase of life. I’m sure the next blog title will give away which route I take. Until then, more rest and plenty of contemplation! I hope this does help someone looking for more detailed experiences to make it less scary, more realistic. It’s no picnic, but this has definitely been its own challenge, not really comparable to my surgery two years ago but with some familiarities that made it less full of unknowns. But it’s always been my philosophy that doing nothing is still a choice, and often a bad choice. When you’re at a point where nothing is getting better, then the risks are often worth taking. If I thought I could handle it, I never would have brought it up to begin with. When I go to a doctor, it’s because I’ve exhausted all of my own options and truly need to consider the best and worst of what it takes to hope things will get better. It’s not about me being strong, it’s about humbling myself to accepting help. Genetics just don’t give a flying fuck how good your diet or exercise or habits are. There’s no point in blaming anything; get the help your body knows you need and accept all of the feelings and doubts and hopes. 

And I thank whatever conditions created Medicaid so I didn’t have to continue suffering. Or worse. The ovary thing still haunts me because that sucker was killing me. My long term goal is to not die young enough that people say what a shame it is I went before my time. I don’t exactly want to see super old age but I sure as hell don’t want to be ‘too young’. I sure as hell don’t want to be pitied. I’m having a damn good run, all things considered. I’ve survived shitty friends, shitty jobs, got damned good at a lot of things. But I hope I’m nowhere near done yet.