Timing really is everything. Tomorrow my husband has to leave for Rochester, NY for a 3 day business trip. My semester starts tomorrow night. So, of course, I spent most of the day in the emergency room. I got sick last night, tummy pains waking me up around 11pm. I never went back to sleep. I thought I had food poisoning, with very similar symptoms. But at 5:30 this morning, I threw in the towel and called our HMO. They told me to come in at 10am. I went in, they poked around a few minutes, then told me they thought it was my gallbladder. Since it was Sunday, they wanted me to get tested at a local emergency room. They were going to give me pain meds, and didn't want me driving so they called an ambulance to transport me. In the meantime, they couldn't get the prescription through in their computer system. So I ended up riding in an ambulance without the pain meds. My husband had to waylay a neighbor to take him to get our car, then waylay another neighbor to bring him and our son to the emergency room.
Nothing goes quickly at an ER. I was there for 3 hours. I did get a sonagram that found a few gallstones, which was the reason for the food poisoning-like symptoms. I got prescription meds, and a recommendation that I schedule surgery.
The kicker, at least for me, is that I also got a recommendation to lose weight and cut out fat from my diet. I'm already on a low fat diet! I eat french fries like once a year. But until the surgery, no fats. No cheese, no avocados, no butter, no fried foods. If that isn't motivation to get it done soon, I don't know what is.
Hopefully I won't miss class tomorrow night. I already took the day off from work, so I can sleep. And a dear friend is taking my husband to the train station so I don't have to get up at 4:30am....
1 comment:
Argh! I'm so sorry to hear that you are going through this. My BG attack and subsequent surgery sucked. BTW, um ... they suggest that you keep the fat extra low in your diet for a couple of months after the surgery, until your liver learns how to pick up the fat-digestive slack. Bummer. My extreme sympathies.
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