Chitchat and the occasional in-depth analysis about fiber, knitting, spinning, crochet, cooking, feminism, self-image, and a modicum of personal blathering.

Friday, April 24, 2009

About that missing blog entry...

I didn't blog on Monday because I really didn't feel very good.

I had some abdominal pain that I thought was related to the meds my doctor gave me, so I ignored it. After several days, it became impossible to ignore, so I called the doctor again. Her nurse inquired if I still had my gall bladder, which I did. (note the tense there.) I was told to get an ultrasound. Since I was pretty much writhing in pain and unable to function, I made the appointment for the following morning, Wednesday.

So the ultrasound technician was a very nice young lady. We were having a good talk, lots of laughs and interesting observations about the nature of rubbing goo on people all day and taking photos of their internal organs. She finished the requested scan, then left, rather abruptly and strangely, saying she needed to "see if the pictures came out". Strangely because the pictures were right there on her computer screen.

That's one young lady who really needs to come up with a better excuse when she has to go off in a panic to get someone to look at her scans.

She came back after about 15 minutes and told me the radiologist was calling my doctor because my gall bladder was pretty abnormal. After another 15 minutes or so, the radiologist came in, introduced himself, and told me in no uncertain terms that my gall bladder had irreconcilable differences with the rest of my body and an immediate divorce was the only possible course of action. Sludge, many stones, and a large stone completely blocking the main duct, which was the cause of my pain and misery, not the metformin after all.

So I took myself to the ER, conveniently upstairs from the ultrasound facility, and got admitted. By 8 that night, my gall bladder had been shuffled off this mortal coil and I was on the road to recovery. My surgeon, a very nice man who bears a striking resemblance to Greg Kinnear, said that a normal gall bladder is the size of a thumb. Mine was the size of a brick. He actually gave me a photo to take home with me, it's pretty gruesome. I photographed the photo and will put it on Flickr at some point and link to it. Anyway, I came home today.

There's still more pain than I like but it's definitely getting better instead of worse, which is a relief.

So I'll blog with the usual glee and photos and newsy stuff soon, but not today. I have photos from last week's trip to the museum and a couple of good sock pictures.

Oh, and "anonymous"? Your comment was deleted because you were talking out of your nether regions about a subject that apparently leaves you clueless and this is a fat-friendly blog. But thanks for stopping by. When you figure out how obesity can be "prevented" or "cured", be sure to let the rest of the world know, ok? But do us all a favor and do some research first, starting here and moving on to oh, maybe here after that. In fact, do yourself the great favor of spending a nice chunk of time on Junkfood Science and get acquainted with the concept that fat does not equal death before you come commenting here again, ok? Thanks.

(I may be slightly touchy about this because apparently one of the leading causes of gall bladder disease is weight-loss dieting and following a very low-fat diet for an extended period of time. Which I did, of course, repeatedly, in the pursuit of "health".)


Elizabeth said...

One of my knitting friends up here in WI had to have emergency gallbladder surgery last year. It sounds like an awful condition! Glad to hear you're on the mend.

Meowser said...

Oh, dude, I'm sorry. Glad you got it out and over with, though.

MadCarlotta said...

I was wondering how come it was all quiet on the Fennel front suddenly! I'm glad you were diagnosed and are now on the mend. I can't wait to see the picture.

KnittingReader said...

I am so glad that you were on the mend!

I didn't see Anonymous' comment, but good for you!

Jody said...

Welcome back, Jamie!

Anonymous said...

I had a similar situation. Much sympathy. And you sound way better than I did -- I didn't get it attended to early enough, and my blood was septic. I lost 5 days of consciousness to morphine pushes, then puked all over the hospital before leaving. Good times. As they say, I'm *much better now*. :D