So, I had my surgery! It wasn't so bad. I was a little nervous, but not as much as I thought I would be. I have never been put under for anything, not even my wisdom teeth removal. I have never had an IV for anything. I have never been admitted into a hospital for anything. 

The doctors said I was the perfect patient because I had nothing else wrong with me except what they intended to fix. That made me feel pretty secure. That, and the fact that my friend Carla Roland, who was just supposed to drop me off and pick me up, decided to stay the entire time with me. We chatted for a bit and we prayed before they wheeled me out. She was such a help in keeping me at peace!

The very first woman who "greeted" me when I walked into the sign in room was NOT pleasant. I would say something like, "Who can blame her? It was before 5am" if it weren't for the fact that I have been waking up at 3 for most of the last 13 years to sling coffee. She was getting water ready for the coffee machines in the waiting area and looked at me suspiciously. 

"What are you looking for?" she asked, in a very accusatory tone.

"I was told that if no one was at the sign in desk, I was to come to this room."

"Sign in on the clip board."

I grabbed a clip board from the table and filled out the piece of paper. She left to get water. When she returned, she snapped at me to take the piece of paper and put the clip board back for others to use. There were about 20 clip boards on the table and none of the other 9 people in the room were using them. One woman who had been there longer than I had, saw me sign in and went to sign in herself. She asked me what to do. A few minutes later, a young girl, her fiance (which shocked me because she looked 14) and her mom walked in with the same trepidatious look I thought I must have had when I arrived. I directed them to the clipboards and the lady snapped at them, as well.

A few minutes later another woman walked in. She worked there and I immediately hoped to have her check me in and not the snappy woman. The snappy woman came around to collect the papers we had filled out and then snapped at me again for not putting what kind of procedure I was having done. I told her and then commented that I hadn't seen a spot to put that on the sheet. 

"It's at the very top!" she snapped back. She then went to get my paperwork and when she handed the pile back to me, I looked at the top of the paper. There was a line that looked like a title and said, "Surgery, MRI, or [something else]" and apparently, we were meant to circle the one that pertained to us rather than assume it was just the title of the sheet. Uh, huh.

Carla was parking the car through most of this, but joined me as the second woman began checking people in. She checked 2 people in and called my name, but when she looked at my paper, she said she wasn't doing surgical check in. I sighed and tried to steel myself to deal with the snappy woman. But then a third woman called me over and we had a nice chat as she checked me in.

I then went to the fourth floor to check in with the nurses. I only waited a couple minutes until a nurse came to get me. Carla waited while the nurse took me down a hall with a lot of equipment along the walls and little cells off of it. She weighed me and I was pleasantly surprised (our scale is off and I never remember how much) and then led me into one of the cells. 

The rooms were super tiny! There were 2 chairs, a computer attached to the wall, and a hospital bed inside. The bed needed to be shoved cock-eyed so the nurse could open the bathroom door. She chatted with me and was very pleasant. I had to take a pregnancy test because I haven't had a period in 16 months, but it was negative. Good thing, or I would have left with my gall bladder intact and a surprise for my husband!

The nurse had me get in a gown and then ran an IV. It didn't hurt at all. She hooked me up to some fluids and an antibiotic. The doctor, another nurse, and two anesthesiologists came by to chat with me and then Carla came back to pray with me. After we prayed, the nurse started to wheel me out and the second anesthesiologist gave me a shot in my IV. It was 7:40am. I remember about 40 feet of the hallway and nothing else.

I woke up in a large recovery room around 9:30 with a lot of equipment around me. I was coughing because my throat was so dry from the breathing tube. I know I had one because they told me I would, not because I remember having one. I also felt like I was having a gall bladder attack because that area hurt. The nurse gave me some water and two Vicodin. A few minutes later I was wheeled to another cell that was a lot larger than the first one to recover. A nurse sat just outside and watched me while filling out paperwork. Carla came to sit with me and help me drink some cranberry juice. It was too cold to be pleasant. We sat in there until about 11:10 and then I told the nurse I was ready to go home. I got dressed and was wheeled out and home by 11:30am!

Carla was wonderful! All I wanted was to go to sleep; so when I got home, I greeted my mother-in-law and my daughter, thanked Carla and went up to sleep for the next 3 hours. Carla and my MIL chatted and then Carla went to the grocery store and pharmacy for us! She came back with my prescription, some Jello and a few things my MIL requested. She really took care of me!

My mother-in-law was wonderful, too! She came into town the Saturday before my surgery to hang with us and babysit for me. She did a wonderful job of keeping Milli occupied and happy. She fed her some real food as well as the breast milk I had frozen for the occasion. It lasted exactly as long as I needed it to. Milli was pretty good, but as demanding as a 5 month old is like to be.

I took two long naps that day and still slept that night. I could not nurse Milli until after noon the next day to give a full 24 hours for the anesthesia and Vicodin to get out of my system. I didn't need to take any more pain pills and I was ready to nurse her at noon on Thursday. She missed me! My MIL let me take a long nap that day, as well, and I felt so much better by the evening. I even had a little real food myself. 

Friday night I was so good that my husband made seafood enchiladas and we all went to Madeleine's for dessert. Saturday we hit Donut Parade and Sunday my husband made me bacon! I can't keep that kind of diet up, but it was so nice to be able to eat and not worry about pain.

My mother-in-law returned to MI on Saturday, leaving me to fend for myself. She had to go, but neither she nor I wanted her to. I am on a weight restriction and am not allowed to lift Milli, which makes things a little difficult, but we survived today with help from a friend and my husband. We should be OK until the restriction is lifted.

That's the news.

The Gall

I have gall stones. They are pesky and painful. I first discovered them when I was about 7 months pregnant (I was looking for the exact date of the attack- it was sometime in August). Edward was at work although the semester hadn't begun yet and I was home for the day. I was in my last trimester and was trying to get as much protein as possible. I had only gained about 10 pounds at that point, so I didn't mind adding a little more fat to my diet to achieve the protein. The day I had my first attack, I had two eggs on toast with cream cheese for breakfast and some 4% milk fat cottage cheese for lunch. This wasn't a crazy amount of fat, but it was too much for my already sick gall bladder. I began feeling pain in the center of my back in the late morning and I tried to stretch it out thinking it was just a muscle issue. I don't usually have center back pain but I have a lot of lower back pain, so I knew how to work out those muscles. The ache was very annoying but it didn't stop me from eating lunch. Very soon after lunch, the pain became more than annoying. I lay on my bed and tried to get comfortable but there was no way to do it.  The pain got worse and worse. I wanted my husband!

I knew that Baby was fine. She was moving as usual, I had no contractions, she didn't seem to be in any kind of distress. I was not worried about her except by worrying that if something was wrong with me, it would affect her. As the pain worsened, I began to cry a bit. I wanted my husband and I wanted to feel better. I wasn't super worried, as nothing major has ever happened to me physically and this didn't feel life threatening. But it got worse. And worse. My husband finally came home around noon or one and I called him upstairs right away. He held me and asked what was wrong. He was worried and I tried to reassure him, but pain scares him more than it does me- and when a loved one is in pain, it is often worse for the one watching. He rubbed my back and held me, kept asking me what he should be doing. I didn't know. But then the pain became so bad that I ran to the bathroom and vomited. He immediately got on the phone with the midwife, who said it was probably gall stones (that meant nothing to us) and he should take me to the emergency room. 

My husband doesn't drive, so he called a colleague whom he had just left at the office. Chris LaSota came quickly and drove us to Deaconess. He was the most nervous of the three of us, at least outwardly. My husband was calm on the outside and did a really remarkable job of dealing with something that scared him to death. I was still in pain, although not to the point of vomiting any more. Chris dropped us off at Emergency and they said it was probably gall stones and then directed us to Labor and Delivery. I told them I was not in labor, but they said it was policy to send all pregnant women there just in case.

The wheeled me up and put me in a comfortable room. I changed into a gown and they hooked me up to a fetal monitor. Edward called the mothers, his first because she had called while we were in the car on the way to the hospital and he was afraid he had scared her. She had called our sister-in-law who is a doctor, in the mean time, and was told it was probably gall stones. The nurse who took my history and vitals and was watching the baby monitor also said it was probably gall stones. No one seemed to be worried and the pain had lessened enough that I was calm and tired. Edward was still nervous but was wonderful and stayed with me most of the time even though it is in his nature to walk briskly when nervous. 

After a couple hours, a urine sample and a blood draw, the doctors told me they had ruled out all life threatening possibilities and that is was probably gall stones. The baby was fine and after giving me some juice, they sent me home. Our midwife set me up with an appointment to have an ultrasound done on my gall bladder. I had a horrible cold that day and kept choking on phlegm as the imaging operator worked. I caught a glimpse of a baby foot as she was making a wide pass of that area. Then I had to wait for another week to find out the results. Meanwhile, I was not allowed to eat fat.

At my next prenatal appointment which was my last in August, I was told that I had two large stones and some sludge, whatever that meant. Because I was pregnant, there was nothing that could be done, so I was told to "limp along" until Baby came and eat as little fat as possible. So I did- I ate close to 10 grams a day, which is ridiculously hard! I mean, there is a gram in a slice of bread and two or three in one serving of most cereal. All meat and most dairy have fat. And I can only drink soy or almond milk, both of which contain fat. My meals became less varied and I could hardly eat out at all. I remember eating out once and having very plain fish, steamed greens and rice. Why bother?

But I didn't have another attack while pregnant. And I lost the 10 pounds I had gained within two weeks. By the time I was in labor, I weighed a total of 2 pounds more than I had before I got pregnant. And after Baby was out, I was -18 pounds. Not bad at all! 

I was told that when I was no longer pregnant, I could let up on the restrictions a bit. I ate pizza the night Milli was born. My mother-in-law was visiting and she made us comfort food, none of which was super heavy in fat, but none of which was really low fat. There was ground beef and chicken, mayonnaise and milk, cheese and butter. We even had a pie! But I was still sort of careful. I didn't have another attack for a few weeks. 

But eventually, they came again. I had a couple attacks while home for Christmas and a couple in January. I had several in February and a really bad one on my birthday in March. Granted, I had splurged and had the most amazing chocolate dessert ever from Elliot's Oyster House in Seattle: Sunken Chocolate Soufflé à la Mode filled with dark chocolate ganache and served warm with Madagascar vanilla ice cream. It was worth the first 2 hours of the three hour attack, in my opinion. On that trip, I discovered that a really hot bath helped a great deal. My husband drew one for me after two hours and I fell asleep in it. It caused the same reaction that the hot bath during my labor did- all pain dulled or ceased and I felt all the tiredness of the hours beforehand. 

After that attack, my husband and mother-in-law insisted that I call a doctor. I had been saying I would for months, but after the attacks were over, it didn't seem that important. I also wasn't sure how to go about it. But a few Sundays before, I had met a women at a Pampered Chef party who had recently had her gall bladder removed by a nice doctor. She gave me his name and a great recommendation. After talking with my mother-in-law one day, I called his office to make an appointment. The result is, I am having surgery. Goody. I have never had surgery of any kind before. In fact, I have never been admitted to a hospital before. Actually, I still won't have been admitted, I think, as this is an out patient procedure. My mother-in-law is coming to stay with me while I have it done to drive me back and forth and to help with the baby. 

From what everyone has told me, and I was surprised how many people I know who have had this procedure done, it is pretty easy and has a quick recovery. I have heard people say they were at work the next day and that they only took pain meds for one day. I am taking the week off as the doctor recommended, but I am hoping to avoid taking pain medication if possible. I know I will not be able to nurse for a bit, but I don't want it to be an extended bit.

I am not at all excited about the idea of being cut into, even if they are only 1/2 inch incisions. But I am looking forward to a visit from my mother-in-law, a week off from work, and a doughnut from Donut Parade when I am finished!