Gigi's Medical Adventure

In the middle of a really boring late September meeting, someone suddenly stabbed me in the stomach all the way through to my back! At least that's how it felt. And it was distressing! My stomach has acted strangely on and off for years and the pain through to the back feature wasn’t entirely new. I’ve seen numerous doctors about it, but nobody could figure it out. It was repeatedly diagnosed as either an ulcer or a back spasm and nobody was sure of the cause. So I attributed it to stress and moved on until the next time it would flare up, which was usually two or three times a year. But this time was different because: A) My life is not the least bit stressful now that I don't work with the children. And B) the pain was more severe and persistent, yo! I had to see a doctor.

I like avoid medical professionals like I do the grocery store, because they tend to activate my latent hypochondria. If I don’t go to the doctor I feel fine! So I hadn’t seen one since I’d had the pox. But I went in and explained about the stabbing stomach pains and the doctor naturally thought I had an ulcer. I tried to tell him about my stress-free lifestyle, but he informed me that ulcers are not caused by stress, but by a gross bacteria that gets into your stomach and eats holes in it. So he sent me to get a blood test for the nasty bacteria and also for an Upper GI x-ray series.

The upper GI thing was not the least bit fun for me, which was surprising because most people love a good Upper GI. There's nothing like drinking a repulsive barium solution and then rolling around on an x-ray table while feeling like you're going to vomit. To add insult to injury, I had to remove my navel ring...which immediately closed up and left a dumb looking scar on my belly button. A scar that says, "I do silly impulsive things to my body!" Well I suppose the ring said that even more clearly. Much like the tattoo on my shoulder. Actually, just standing near some of the x-boys has sent that message as well. But I digress...

All of the exciting tests were inconclusive, yet I was still feeling shitty. I kept feeling the stabbing pains on and off for weeks. It was so bad one night that I cried and paced for 4 hours and could not even be consoled by a Lifetime Movie. Now that's serious! So I went to the doctor again, and this time I was sent for an ultrasound. For some reason, the word "ultrasound" makes everyone talk about pregnancy. The doctor mentioned that the ultrasound wouldn't hurt my nonexistent fetus, in case I was pregnant, even though I had just told him I wasn't. The ultrasound lady said the same thing. Lola and LP also had a good time making baby jokes. Grrr.... As my roommate and my boyfriend, the joke of pregnancy would really be on both of them. Hahaha.

The ultrasound did not find my little alien baby, but it did find stones in my gallbladder. Just like everyone else at the nursing home! This turns out to be a family curse, as my sister and my mom had the same problem in their 20s, but for some reason whenever I mentioned the possibility to a doctor, he or she would completely brushed me off as if I’d said I thought I had a penile tumor. Hey doctors! Thanks for the extra years of pain! I really enjoyed taking all of those needless antacids while thinking I was crazy.

So I needed to have my whole damn offending gallbladder removed. Unfortunately the stones were discovered the week before Thanksgiving, so I had to wait a whole month before I could get a surgery date. It was a month of eating almost nothing but Cream of Wheat and feeling constantly horrible: sick, lethargic and grouchy. Apologies to all of my friends and coworkers. They put up with a lot of snappy grump from me while I was sick. I was Le Bitch, to be sure.

The surgery itself was easy. I can highly recommend getting your gallbladder removed. You have to wear stupid looking mismatched surgery clothes, (and a puffy shower cap!) but that is really the worst part. My surgeon was funny and nice and explained everything really well, and the nurses and anesthesiologist were fabulous. Which is good, because I’ll be paying this sugery off for years! But I didn’t feel a thing. And I woke up with 3 little incisions on my stomach and my belly button fused together with super glue. The surgeon was very excited afterwards and said, “You had the most gallstones I’ve ever seen in a small white girl!” I had 40 stones! Apparently that’s a lot and I am very very special. The doctor showed them to LP, who said that they were interesting but would not have made good jewelry. People are not allowed to take their stones home anymore, anyway. I am not really sad about that.

I felt really sore and tired for a few of days, but recovery was remarkably easy, too. I did find out that Vicodin makes me throw up and that throwing up with abdominal incisions really sucks. But LP took care of me like a champ for my entire recovery period. He is my hero! The hospital gave us a sheet of instructions that told me what post-surgery weirdnesses to look out for and when I could do things like drive or shower. It was very handy. It didn’t tell me when I could resume fun bedroom activities, but I figured if it was ok to climb on playground equipment in a week, it would be ok to climb on LP, too.

So all is well. I am eating all of my favorite foods again and am as happy as can be just in time for the new year. Here’s to health in 2005!

-Gigi 01.06.05