Warning! rant follows: I am so sick and tired of being sick and tired! [End of rant. I know ~ I’m not as good at ranting as I used to be. đ ]
So on Sunday morning about 4 o’clock in the morning, without my volition, I found myself visiting the ninth circle of hell. Bloated to the point that I really felt I might explode and in serious pain (as in: I may pass out and/or die). At some point I took a bath ~ twice (yes, really; thereâs nothing that a warm bath canât make better at least for a little while).
The second bath didnât help so much, so I washed my hair, knowing I was going to wake James up and have him drive me to the ER, which I did.
By the time we got there, the pain was nearly insupportable ~ you know those level of pain faces, scale of 1 to 10? 
Yeah. I was rockinâ the unhappiest #10 face, so they gave me a shot of something that made my head try to float off my shoulders, did some tests, like they do, and bingo! gallstones. About 20 of them. Overachiever, me.
The ER doctor, very nice young man, referred me to a surgeon named Dr. Maresh (Iâm turning that into âMarrakeshâ so that I can have the song playing in my head, alongside a picture of a hippy bus painted with flowers in psychedelic colors. It’s a lot better than âgallbladderâ with which nothing rhymes, really, nothing fun anyway.)
Of course, today I started looking up what you should and shouldn’t eat and drink if you have gallbladder issues because you know I’m Hermione Granger when it comes to solving a problem. And the list of the things that you should avoid when you have gallbladder issues pretty much comprises everything that I like. Surprise!
Everything from eggs, turkey, chicken, pork, red meat, dairy and sugar to citrus fruits,black tea, cigarettes and alcohol (The doctor asked me if I’d been on a drinking binge recently. First time I laughed all day.) So basically I can have mild greens and water (and keep the cow jokes to yourself, what do you say?)
Honestly I plan to blame my brother-in-law because he’s the one who mentioned the âGâ word, a couple weeks ago when I was telling him about some back problems that I was having. I think you jinxed me, Kenny. We need to talk.
So . . .last year, hysterctomy, this year, since I donât want to visit the 9th circle of hell even ONE more time . . . gallbladder-ectomy (yes, I know thatâs not itâs technical name).
It’s always somethin’, as the admirable Rosanne Rosannadanna used to say.
But hey! Who knows? Pretty soon I may have room enough in there for a pool table and a pinball machine.