Hi, everyone!
Yes, it's me. I'm still alive. Sorry I've been MIA for a week, but trust me, I've got a really good excuse.
Last Saturday, at about 3 a.m., I woke up in major pain. I felt like my rib cage was going to burst because of all the pressure. I was definitely running a fever, and I could not get comfortable. I called Michelle about 8 a.m. to tell her I wasn't feeling well, and therefore would not be going to the gym. I then proceeded to sleep all day. I thought for sure I'd be better on Sunday, but not true. I managed to shower, grab some groceries (I wanted some Sprite) and do a couple loads of laundry, though.
At about 8 p.m., I spoke to my mom and after telling her my symptoms, she suggested I call Michelle and have her take me to the E.R. Michelle arrived and off we went.
Once I got to an ER room, the doctor decided to run a bunch of tests on me. The nurse tried to get some blood, but all she really did was create an ever so lovely bruise on my hand. She had to get the phlebotomist to come and find a vein. (My veins don't like needles, so they hide. Blood and needles totally gross me out. Just the nurses feeling around for a vein totally squicks me out. Gross!)
So, I had an EKG, a CAT Scan and an ultrasound. The ER doc came in to tell me that they don't normally diagnose gall bladder issues from a CAT Scan, but mine was SO BIG that they could - and they did.
They sent in a VERY yummy looking surgical intern to explain the plan to me, then the surgeon came in. He told me that my gall bladder was "remarkable" and that he couldn't believe I was so chipper for as sick as I was (so my white blood cell count was double what it should've been. I wasn't sick. Nope.). Michelle told him that I have a high pain tolerance and his response was, "Boy! I guess so."
By this point, it was 3 a.m. Monday morning. They finally rolled me up to a room, Michelle went home, and I tried to get some sleep. I was told that since I was in "such bad shape", I would be up first on the surgery schedule unless an emergency came in. Turns out there was an emergency and I didn't get taken to surgery until almost noon. (By this point, I was Grumpy with a capital G. You would've been, too, if you hadn't had anything to eat in almost 24 hours, were in pain, and hadn't slept all night.)
I don't remember anything past talking to the surgery nurse and anesthesiologist. I am very happy to report that anesthesia doesn't make me act loopy or say things I might be embarrassed by later.
They sent me home on Tuesday. Thankfully, my parents were able to come down on Monday and they arrived before I was out of surgery.
I am so grateful to Michelle, my parents, my brothers, and all of my friends for their help and well wishes for a speedy recovery, even though Travis thinks I'm an overachiever and Ryan told mom that he and the kids saw a picture of my gall bladder on the Guinness Book of World Records website.
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