Saturday, October 15, 2011

The anatomy of a gallstone

It's 2:00 a.m.  Perfect!  Why do these things always happen at 2 in the morning?  Okay, in all fairness, it started yesterday morning, but I thought I had strained my back.  Oh ya, I guess I should explain.  I am smack dab in the middle of an attack of gallstones.  This would not be so unusual, except for the fact that I have been minus a gallbladder (galbadder ?  one l or two?  Oh, who cares.) since I was 20 years old.  Imagine my shock some 20 years later to discover that one can continue to grow gallstones in the tube that used to connect  the faulty organ to the infrastructure of my anatomy even after it has been removed.  Seriously!?  I know, you're asking, "then what's the point of having it removed?"  At times such as these when I am writhing (yes, I am actually writhing, like a slimy serpent) in pain, I am screaming the same question.  My sister, Sally, can unfortunately attest to this phenomenon as she suffers from the same malady.  By the end of my tale, your hearts will ache for her because she suffers (I like using that word "suffers" because emphasizing the severity of this pain somehow makes me feel better) from it far more frequently than I do.  In fact, this is probably only the 5th time in the last six years for me.  She has probably had it six times in the last six months.  You might be wondering how it's possible for me to be blogging about it if I am in so much pain.  Well, because it's better than pacing my living room, moaning like Myrtle.  (If you are not a Harry Potter fan you won't get that reference.  Just know it's not pretty.)  Please allow me to describe the particulars of this condition.  As I described earlier, it starts slowly, a nagging ache in the upper right quadrant of your back so you are confused about what it might actually be, a pulled muscle maybe?  Old age?  Then WHAM! Always in the middle of the night, it hits you like a moving truck.  This particular night I felt uncomfortable.  I tossed back and forth trying to inch away from the growing ache in my back, without success.  Finally, I try to get up and it hits.  Imagine sitting on the edge of your bed and having someone with a 10 inch knife with a serrated blade on both edges sit behind you and very, very slowly push the blade into your back.  Once it has been inserted to its full length into your flesh, then they proceed to withdraw the blade, also very, very slowly, but now they are slowly twisting it back and forth just for effect.  Once they have completely withdrawn the blade, they begin the process all over again and this continues for around 24 hours.  So, as the little invisible demon delightfully tenderizes my living tissue, I begin to try to pace the floor.  It doesn't help.  Now, I am moaning....loudly...scaring the animals.  The last time this happened, Jay was here.  He is a genius at knowing how to stop my variety of unusual pains, and he massaged my back strenuously with a vibrating massager and it decreased the length and severity of the episode by several hours.  But, Jay was not here.  However, it was 8 a.m. in Africa and so I called him.  After he managed to discover the source of my angst through the moaning and sobbing, he asked if I had any pain killers.  I had 1/2 of a hydrocodone, but I knew it wouldn't help.  Usually, it requires a very large dose of morphine to even take the edge off.  He suggested I go to the emergency room.  Ha!  I might be in pain, but I'm not insane!  That would cost a fortune, even with insurance, and besides there's no way I could drive a car in this condition and I would NEVER call someone in  the middle of the night to take me to the hospital.  (I don't want to hear it.....my kids know me too well....I do not ask for help.)  He had to come up with something better.  Yes, I know he's on the other side of the world, I don't care!  Just tell me what to do!  He really is a genius, level headed, wonderful.  He suggested I get in a really hot shower and turn the massaging shower head to the beater black and blue setting and let it beat against my back.  This sounded like a good idea.  So, that is what I did and it helped tremendously.  Obviously, because I am now able to form intelligent thoughts enough to entertain you all with this vivid description.  I will now sit in my chair, with a pillow and a heating pad set to the surface of the sun setting, at 3 a.m. and grit my teeth until it passes.  I am thrilled.  I can't wait to see what is on TV at 3 a.m.  Wish me luck.

1 comment:

mel nielson said...

Poor you and poor Sally! It's a good thing you ladies are tough. And you owe us at least one middle of the night phone call for the time we had to call you at 1:30 in the morning ;)