The Fireworks of My Former Gallbladder

          

Anyone who is anybody doesn't have a gallbladder. They are an organ that has no real use, so why have one anyway? I have lived without mine for a year and a half and let me tell you: it's awesome. I have leftover pain meds, cool scars, sweet memories, and now poop on the regular. I remember a time back in Grad School I hadn't had a regular poop in two months. I attributed that to stress and marriage. Turns out it was because I had not jumped on the most popular American surgery bandwagon. All I needed was a doctor to slice me with lasers. That's right! They do it with lasers! If you still have your gallbladder let's just say I won't be inviting you to any parties. 

I had many gallstone attacks before I landed in the hospital. I thought the attacks were caused by gas. I had one when I was pregnant and I thought I was in labor. Turns out I just ate way too much ice cream. Here is footage of me eating the ice cream that crushed my soul: 

https://www.instagram.com/p/s_CscbP7vcQVb5WzWb6dS1n1IZe4G7WFWUpKc0/

It was New Years Eve. I was a new mother, my c-section was healed, I got to jacuzzi with my husband, I was at my friend's posh house, and things were swinging. My friends cooked a meal of steak, lobster ravioli, and wine that cost $100 (my friend's husband was proud of that fact.) I even took a picture of said dinner: 

                  

Yeah, shit was decadent and on the fatty side of life. Looking at these pictures now makes me wanna hurl and later that night I did. 

In the middle of the night I couldn't get comfortable because I was in the worst pain of my life, yes even more painful than childbirth because I had an epidural. (My birthing advice: DO ALL THE DRUGS THEY ARE WILLING TO GIVE YOU. ) It was quiet in my friend's cold blue room and the white linens were not comforting me. My husband was sound asleep; even the baby who was 6 weeks old was asleep. In my misery I soon became nauseated and had the urge to vomit. Only, I could hardly move because of the intense pain. The only thought running through my head was "WHITE LINENS". I mean, my friend's house is nice. Real nice. Also, her worst nightmare is vomit. She is grossed out by it. She can't even to bring herself to vomit because she is so grossed out by it. I always wonder what it was like for her when she barfed. Did she cry? Did she puke more because she was disgusted? Did she pause to remark about how grossed out she was? I will never really know. I am like that with other people's boogers but that is another blog. Also I love to vomit. I vomit a lot. I used to vomit after a night of drinking and I never got hangovers. But, I was not enjoying this vomit session. Side note: I don't vomit on purpose. Just in case you were worried I have some sort of disorder.

In order to save the linens I made the genius decision and reached for a nearby towel, that was used in the jacuzzi, placed it on my chest, and then made an oval barrier with my arms to act as the Great Wall of China to avoid the vomit from entering white linen territory. Ready, aim...I vomited for what seemed to be a year, all of the decadence that came out of my mouth was easily worth $300. 

The baby and the husband woke up to the sound of me puking. My husband panicked as I tried to instruct him on how to transport the vomit and save the linens. He helped me up with the vomit secured by my arm wall as we gingerly separated the towel from the arm wall and dumped them into another pile of towel leftover from our jacuzzi excursion. We had done it! We saved the linens!! But, my husband never had to do chores as a child, and fecklessly emptied the bile covered towels into my friends washing machine.  By the time they made that discovery and had to hose the towels out on their driveway we were long gone to the E.R. Happy New Years Day 2015.

So, there I was the first day of the New Year in the E.R. with a freaked out husband and infant.  The  E.R.'s are riddled with diseases. It's no place for a fucking baby. I had gallstones. Gross. And it's not because I am fat. Gallstones are genetic. Don't know who has em' in my gene pool but when I find out who that person is I am going to spit over my shoulder and give them the evil eye. They had to keep me over night and do tests. Bye baby. Bye husband. Bye 2014.

Have you ever had an MRI? The only reference I have to an MRI is from The Sopranos, the greatest television show of all time. MRI's are terrifying. They strap you down on a table and inject you in a small oval. As you lay there you are face to face with white walls. The lab technician behind glass speaks to you inside the oval, "If you move during the examination, we will have to start all over again. And you will have to stay in longer." A thing buzzes and you don't move. You are still and hold your breath. I am usually not claustrophobic but I was in that small oval thinking they might find something and tell me that I was gonna die. I usually don't care about dying but I had been through a hard labor recently, was on very little sleep because of the infant, had a non adjusted husband and a non adjusted cat. Shit was hitting the fan but NOT the linens!

My short foreign friend was my breast milk currier.

Eventually I was out of the E.R. and in my own private room where I enjoyed a mini vacation to ring in the New Year! It was an amazing way to spend the holiday! A vacation away from my non adjusted husband and restless infant?! What did I do?  I binged watched Friends, slept, pumped milk, was pampered by nurses, showered without interruption, took semi naked selfies of myself, chatted on the phone, and eventually after 24 hours I was allowed to eat again. They gave me jello. I ate the shit out of it. I stayed in there for four days. It was sort of magic. I would return and part with my gallbladder in about two months. Gallbladders are so passe anyways.

During the time I was still harboring my dieseased gallbladder, I wasn't allowed to eat much, for fear of another attack. My go-to meal was white rice, avocado, and Sriracha mayonnaise. I was skinny. Skinnier than I have been in a long time. Skinny from breastfeeding. Skinny from being ill. My clothes were loose and I was cocky. My mom kept telling me, "Keep it up, now you know what it takes to be thin."  I knew that if I were able to really eat again. I would eat again and again and again because YOLO. I don't have what it takes to be thin. 

Up until the fetus came out of me I had never really had many health problems, but babies fuck your shit up. Your body isn't the same and you aren't young anymore. I don't care if you have a baby at fourteen. Even a fourteen year old mother has something haggard about her body after carrying a baby.        

Being in the maternity ward is heaven compared to the slaughter house that is outpatient surgery. I waited to be prepped for my surgery in the waiting room with my infant and dizzy husband for two hours. We were all one edge. Once I got let into the ward they prepped me without so much as a "good luck" or a "pat you on the back." I was drugged and rolled to the room where they lasered my gallbladder out of me. 

As I was coming to I yelled out in pain. My vision and thoughts were fuzzy but I remember the intern who was wheeling me around, "Is this normal?" and the RN replied, "This is not normal." How comforting.  I awoke in my non-private room surrounded by other victims and snapped and Instaed this sexy shot:

                                                    I really have never looked hotter, right?

Life without a gallbladder is really the best thing that has ever happened to me.  I love being in the non gallbladder club. If you have a gallbladder in you, you might as well take it out, and live your life. Stop holding yourself back from success. It's a useless organ.