Let’s Talk About Sex, Baby…

Let’s talk about you and me
Let’s talk about all the good things
And the bad things that may be.

Salt-N-Peppa for the win, BABY. Gotcha to look! hahaha!

OK, in all honesty, we aren’t gonna be talkin about sex. Nope. As a matter of fact, we are gonna be talking about one of the most polar opposite subjects to sex I can think of at this moment. Gallstones. Yeah, sexy, right? Not.

For all you masochists still reading this, let’s continue. Over on social media, I’ve been eluding to the fact that I’m going to be having surgery soon and I was waiting until I had the full deets before I said more. Well, turns out it’s just not that simple. Here’s what I do know. I have to evict my gallbladder because it’s been creating stones even though it’s been made EXTREMELY clear stones are NOT allowed as it’s a breach of contract to both make them as well as use them as weapons of mass destruction, which it seems joyfully keen on doing. The problem is, I don’t know “how” soon, hence why I haven’t gone into full detail. I hear everyone yelling saying, “But it’s such a simple laparoscopic procedure, so why drag this ish out?” I hear ya, and believe you me, if it were up to me, it would have been done by now because I’m in CONSTANT agony. I’ve passed what one surgeon said was a “small” stone already. IF THAT WAS A SMALL STONE, just kill me if I have to pass a larger one before I have this done. SHIT.

The first surgeon threw out phrases such as “sludge”, “blocked bile duct” “enlarged gallbladder” and “two surgeries” so I did the only thing a self respecting lady who’s never had surgery before could do. I ran out of his office and cried. Then, a sweet friend told me about another surgeon group who could give me a second opinion and hopefully do all this in ONE procedure, not two.

The second visit was yesterday and I loved this new surgeon immediately. He has a really laid back, genuine but direct approach. He asked questions, answered all my questions, actually inspected me with the laying on of hands on the most tender of spots on my abdomen that immediately made me wanna poop, and then proceeded to verify (much to my horrified betrayal) that the first surgeon may be correct about my having to have two different procedures. HOWEVER, he said that unlike the first surgeon’s (who I think of as Doc Ock) dire prognosis which involved two hospital visits (one of which would be overnight), this one suggested that IF I have to have both procedures done, both will be outpatient with no overnight stays. Shew.

The “IF” in all this is a possible stone which may have left it’s cozy family compound and set up residence in the bile duct, partying it up while pissing off my liver and pancreas, who’ve had enough of it’s shit and want it evicted, as of yesterday, thankyouverymuch. This, my friends, is the entire holdup. Literally and figuratively. IF I do, in fact, have a stone in the bile duct, it could spell major trouble that could lead to organ failure, and is the reason I may have to endure two procedures. The initial ultrasound (which, by the way, I had the tech in stitches because I’ve always wanted to have a baby and do the whole ultrasound thing and now, well, THAT factory has been permanently closed for nearly a year now (menopause is truly a bitch) so THAT ain’t happenin unless Jesus himself gets personally involved and when I told the tech all this as she was lubing my tummy up, she lost it) may have actually shown said bachelor stone in the bile duct, partying it up like a rockstar..”rock”…star…get it? But, the report that was written up looks like a drunk person wrote it, so the second surgeon (who, by the way, I’m going to refer to henceforth as Doctor Strange, as I love that character and I love this surgeon) said he wanted clarification as to what was actually on that ultrasound before we just jump into 2 procedures. I could have hugged him for questioning the intel. But, it does mean I’m in a holding pattern until we know for certain. This all could mean I have to have another ultrasound to see how far along this stone pregnancy is, or, if he gets the facts straight on the first one, we book either one or two procedures and get this baby, I mean, stone, and it’s family the heck out of there. These ain’t no Rolling Stones, I’ll tell ya that much. No, these are more like Stonehenge, set up for permanent residence and HUGE.

If I have to have two procedures, the first will involve having a device inserted through my mouth (don’t go all gutter-brained on me now, y’all), down into the area where the possible stone is partying it up in the bile duct, and removing it. Then, a few days later, the laparoscopic surgery will be performed in my abdominal area (cue the awesome scars I’m gonna tell kids for the rest of my life is from an alien abduction) to remove the actual gallbladder and remaining stones, as well as the sludge that is apparently recreating the events of the Exxon Valdez oil spill inside me as I type this. I am not a fan of any of this. My most pressing question though, was if I would have to be catheterized, because AIN’T NOTHING GOING INTO MY WOOTINANNY AREA THAT DON’T NEED TO BE GOING INTO THAT AREA, ya dig? Dr Strange assured me no cather will be going near my wootinanny this go around and I’m extremely happy about that. I’m still not happy about an IV, but once I have that in, and they start administering the good drugs, I’ll be on my way to my very own Alice in Wonderland experience.

The bad parts of all this: the technicolor poop (which, let’s be honest, it’s actually a fun game to try and guess what color it’s gonna be from day to day), the pain that could drop an elephant, the fatigue, man the fatigue, and the waves of nausea that strike randomly. The silver lining in all this: I’ve lost 20 pounds so far. I’ve grown a new appreciation for pain free days, and I got to put my Christmas tree up a lil earlier to avoid having to do it in the case I go to surgery in December.

This is why I’ve not gone out much, or posted much, or kept up to date on my website. I work from home, so that’s been a Godsend. I just do what I can, as I can, and rest the remainder of the time. It’s supposed to be a relatively easy procedure; but of course, with me, who wants “basic” when you can go full tilt “extra”?

I’ll keep ya posted on this adventure that is nothing like Sly and the Family Stone. If y’all are lucky, I’ll have hilarious video of my post op “anesthetized” self to share once this is all said and done.