Wednesday, September 28, 2011

Adventures in Unremarkable Organ Removal

Distraction was the key to managing my pre-surgery jitters when last week I finally got the guts (*cough*) to have my gall bladder removed. 
The drugs didn’t come until later.
It was my husband, Fred, who accidentally cheered me up in the waiting room by trying to make a “basket” with my wadded up wet facial tissues. He missed so many times it was like watching a Laurel and Hardy movie.  By the time he finally sunk it, a crowd was engaged, Fred was red-faced from bending over and I was snorting.
“Whatever entertains you,” Fred said, embarrassed.
Next, I was kept busy trying to put my sterile gown on all by myself. I was required to ASSEMBLE the gown from scratch, snapping material together to create sleeves and various ties (A – D) threaded through various holes (1-6).  The technology was dizzying.  Finally “dressed” and on the gurney, some guy came along with an EKG machine and promptly undid everything. 
The pre-surgery fun continued with my shin wrap fitting.  These wraps inflate and deflate so you don’t get blood clots.  The irony is--I’m way more “motionless” and, thus, “blood-clot fertile” at home in front of the TV than I am during a 1 hour operation, but after a few minutes I rather liked the massage feeling my calves were getting.  It almost felt like a spa treatment. 
I was finally all hooked up to IVs, massaging shin apparatuses in place and draped in my masterpiece snap-together gown.  Naturally I had to use the bathroom.  I kept the nurses busy readying me for my bathroom trip, which resulted in approximately 2 teaspoons worth or pee.  Back to bed, I was hooked up again. 
“Do you SERIOUSLY have to go again?” Fred inquired, moments later. 
“It’s just the “idea” of “not being able to go”,” I said, pulsing the nurse-button.
For all the grief “Gally” the gall bladder had giving me these many months, I half hoped it would emerge in the operating room covered with barnacles and spikes to the horror of all who gazed upon it—an “Alien” hissing organ that fought to survive, bopping and weaving away from the surgeon’s pincers like a boxer. 
“Did the doctor write anything about my gall bladder?” I inquired, doped. 
“No, he usually dictates his notes later,” a nurse replied.
“But, did YOU see my gall bladder?” I asked. 


Maria said...

I've seen a gall bladder. They look like strange squish balls. The first thing you think when looking at one is, "Hell, no. I do NOT have one of those inside of me."

Lucky you! Now, you don't!

Mike said...

'..trying to make a “basket” with my wadded up..'

I was expecting the word gallbladder to come next.

He should get you a rubber gallbladder so you can carry it around. Then you can whip it out and say 'look what they took out of me'.

Dawn @Lighten Up! said...

"The technology was dizzying."
Funny, funny post fron a very un-funny situation. So talented!!
I have a picture of my insides from my appenix removal. Looks like a horror film. Barf-worthy.

Nurse Mommy said...

Heidi, So glad you got that rock out. I had mine out last year and feel sooooo much better. One of the joys of being 40ish. Funny story!

Bagman and Butler said...

How did I miss this one!! I'm so glad I went back and read it. Surguries do offer wonderful material for humor and you have grabbed this one perfectly. When I had my prostate yanked out a few years ago (probably to the distant cheers of old girlfriends) it was hilarious. Oh yes...and I'm glad you seem to have recovered well.

ssaretsky said...

Hey Heidi - as I fit the gallbladder profile (fair, fat and forty!), I can only assume that I will have my own bout of alien removal. Thanks for paving the way with your humor!

Deb said...

Ran across this post while attempting to resurrect my blog, and what a hoot! Thanks for the laughs.

Joanne said...

I hope that you have recovered from your ordeal!

FrankandMary said...

I will now always picture my gall bladder with teeth. Thanks for that.