How Something the Size of a Pearl Can Rule Your Life

Church right outside the hotel.

My, time sure does fly when you’re having fun…

After my return from Arizona life took off for me at warp speed (it always seems to do that on me). Final preparations for our international event in Russia began, and the last 2 weeks in April were a whirlwind of final paperwork, billing, and figuring out which way was up.

And then… shit hit the proverbial fan.

I know I’ve talked about my gallbladder problems before. And if you don’t know what it is, read this article. The pain is terrible, lasting from 1 hour to 24 hours or more. Gallbladder pain has been deemed equal to the contractions women having giving birth. CHILD BIRTH! That’s how bad it is.

I’ve suffered from gallbladder attacks for several years. I had never been officially diagnosed because it runs in my family. When I started having the pain, I told my mom and she knew exactly what it was. They first started really bad after my first COFES last year in 2012. I was hoping this year would be better because I had my eating under control. But…. Nope. No such luck. I had 2 very serious, very long attacks in those 2 weeks I was there.

When I got back home, I became really strict with my eating, doing everything I could to get it back under control. But it didn’t happen. No matter what I ate, something would always set it off. I went to the ER one day after residual pain from a severe attack hadn’t dissipated after 4 days. They did an ultrasound and determined I had large gallstones (duh), prescribed me pain & nausea medication for attacks, and sent me home. Nothing was “wrong” with me in their eyes. No explanation for the pain lasting as long as it did. Nothing other than, “change your diet”. I was discouraged, angry, and felt like I was a wimp.

A week and a half went by (it was now just three weeks before departure for our trip). I was on an absolute-no-fat-diet, completely opposite my Primal eating habits, and it STILL didn’t get my gallbladder under control. I had granola for breakfast one Friday morning, and an attack started by 2pm that afternoon. 2pm! During the day! I never, ever had an attack during the day. It was worse than being woken up at night.

I went home from work early because I couldn’t concentrate. I didn’t go to bed that night because the pain wouldn’t stop even with 2 of the pain pills they gave me. By morning, my nerves were shot and I was at my wits end. The Boy suggested I go back to the ER. I refused at first, because of how unhelpful they were the first time. I tried eating plain rice which made me want to vomit. By noontime, he said he was taking me whether I liked it or not. We sat in the room for a long time; they came in and drew blood, hooked me up to an IV, and gave me medicine that put a dent in the pain but didn’t get rid of it completely. After a chat with the doctor and another blood test, they found my white cell count really high. They checked my vitals again, and my temperature was higher than it had been just 2 hours before. The doctor said it was they were indications that the gallbladder was infected, and she wanted to consult the general surgeon on call. When she called him, she asked if he could do the surgery without another ultrasound. He looked at the film from the previous week, and my new test results, and decided that it was in fact infected. I was admitted an hour after that. Two hours later, out came the gallbladder in four tiny pieces.

When I saw the surgeon the next day, he told me flat out I waited too long to have my gallbladder taken care of. He said the stones were very large, and one got stuck in my bile duct which was causing the infection. He showed me pictures of the stones (which are horribly gross, I might add), and said they were all the size of pearls or a little bigger. A pearl isn’t that big, but in terms of gallstones they are quite large. He let me keep the pictures, and told me I should be healed within 2 weeks.

I was beside myself with guilt because this all happened so close to our work event. My boss was wonderful about it, and brought the Boy & I dinner the night I was released from the hospital. He insisted I take the whole week off, and even locked me out of my computer so I couldn’t remotely work from home.

The week I went back, HE got really sick with a terrible cold and was out the entire week. He even sent me home the first 2 days he was so afraid I’d get sick. That meant we had 1, ONE!, week to get everything finished up before we left.  It was insane. It was stressful. We had to stop worrying about perfection and focus on complete.

After working my tail off, and a horrendous 2-day trip to NH, we were finally on our way to Russia. So far, things have been going well. Bumpy at first, but good. I’ve done some sightseeing and get to do some more before we leave. Russia is a beautiful country. I like it much, much more than I was expecting.

Anyway, that’s what’s been going on in my “crazy adventurous” life lately. When I’m back home, my Spartan training begins. I’m planning on writing about how it goes while living a Primal lifestyle. Should be interesting. I’ll keep ya posted!

Xoxo

Catherine, the Great’s palace