On May 5th, I went into the hospital for a laparoscopic cholecystectomy. Sounds scary, doesn't it? That is a complicated term to say I had my gallbladder removed with minimally invasive surgery. There are a total of four tiny incisions on my stomach (for inserting various instruments and for removing the organ) that hurt very much badly right now, and I am minus one organ.
It started out a couple of weeks after Ellen was born, I went to bed one evening with an ache in my back that felt like nerve pain. It gradually got worse over the next couple of hours until I was writhing in pain unable to get any relief. Then the pain moved into my abdomen, right under my right bottom rib. It went away after a few more hours leaving my stomach tender to the touch. I had four of these attacks over a period of two weeks, each one worse than the previous.
After an unfruitful trip to the ER (where an ultrasound and CT revealed nothing abnormal), and a trip to my PCP, I was finally sent to a surgeon who said if it looked like a duck, walked like a duck, and quacked like a duck, it was most likely my gallbladder. He decided not to do a HIDA scan (which uses a radioactive tracer and is not recommended for breastfeeding moms) but to just get the darned thing out.
So I have been spending the last week recovering from surgery, keeping hopped up on Vicodin, and watching old episodes of House (see a trend here?) while being bored out of my mind. I was able to nurse Ellen after the first day post-op, and she has been my constant companion.
I am so ready to have an adult conversation. Getting a bit tired of this one-sided "Are you poopy? Are you hungry? Good grief your farts STINK!" conversation with this tiny creature who does nothing but sleep, cry, eat, and sometimes poop.
I am so ready to be recovered. So sick of sleeping on the couch, I miss my pillow-top bed. Sigh.