you’ve got some gall, buddy

I try to keep my posts to under 600 words, for the most part, but it’s been 3 weeks since I last published, and I’ve got one hell of story to tell. So grab some coffee (since I can’t) and kick up your feet. Special credit to for the brilliantly twisted cartoons included here. They are funny. And perfect. My last 2 weeks, decidedly not so.  

When last we spoke, I was preparing for my big move. Moving is never easy. I counted on being emotional. I counted on being tired. Short-tempered. Stressed.

I didn’t count on collapsing into a crumpled ball of pain half hour after the movers left.

When that pain refused to budge some 18 hours later, I broke down and saw a doctor. He listened intently to my symptoms and immediately sent me to have some extensive blood work, a chest x-ray and an EKG done.

He seemed fairly confident that my gallbladder was the culprit, but he wasn’t ruling out heart attack. Assuming it was the gallbladder, he prepared me for the nasty things that might be happening in my body. And he prepared me for more pain.


Wednesday was a blur. A blur of pain.

By Thursday I had developed an all-over itch. Every surface of my skin demanded to be scratched. Nay, hacked at.

I took my blood pressure at home. It registered 175/120, so I hightailed it back to the doctor.

He had just received the results from my blood work, and calmly asked if I had driven myself there. I replied that no, my husband had driven me. He demanded I go get him so that he could explain things to him. This confused me, as I wasn’t aware of any deficiency in my hearing or brain function, but I humored him and called Mr. Enthusiasm in.

He told us he could call an ambulance to take me to the hospital. My husband blanched and asked if that was necessary. I can drive her, he said.

Apparently my lab results were quite alarming. My liver function was compromised. And he explained the crazy itchiness: my bilirubin count was 25X higher than that of a healthy person. He told me that this likely meant that a stone had traveled out of my gallbladder and become blocked in my bile duct.

This is where things get nasty. Essentially the bile produced by my body through normal digestive function was hitting this roadblock and “back-washing” into my blood stream. The itchiness was my body telling me I had poison coursing through my veins. Lovely.

Enter visit 1 (of 4) to the ER over the next 7 days.

More blood tests.

Another EKG. [Seriously, I’m NOT having a heart attack. Stop checking my heart and start looking at my goddamned gallbladder.]

Diagnosis: Yes, you have lots and lots of gallstones. Some of them measure as big as 16 mm in diameter. Having stones is not necessarily an issue, but it appears at least one of those stones have moved about. It/they could be stuck in the neck of your gallbladder (Cholecystitis), or it/they could be stuck in the Common Bile Duct (as my doc suggested) or they could even be stuck in your Pancreatic Duct. All of these conditions are very serious (and very painful), and you need an emergency procedure, known as an Endoscopic Retrograde Cholangiopancreatography (ERCP).

Unfortunately, you have the misfortune of needing this EMERGENCY procedure at the start of a holiday weekend. You’re in Canada, where our hospitals are government run, and non-essential employees are entitled to all government holidays. And since the ERCP needs to be done under x-ray, and since the x-ray staff is non-essential, they are off for the next FOUR DAYS (Good Friday through Easter Monday). The soonest we can see you is Tuesday April 7th.

Yay me.

But, before you leave, we need to warn you about a couple of severe complications that could occur before Tuesday. If you develop a fever, it could be a sign of pancreatitis, which is a potentially lethal condition. You must return to emergency immediately. Secondly, if you develop more severe pain in your back, that could also be a sign that your liver is enflamed. You must return to the ER at once.

And then he offered me pain killers. Percocets, Percodans, Oxycodan, whatever my heart desired.

I looked him in the eye and asked, but if I’m supposed to be on the lookout for an increase in pain, how will I know it’s there if the narcotics are masking it?

He didn’t have a good answer for me. So I declined the drugs.

The ensuing 4 days were hell.

I probably should have gone back to the ER at least twice, but I fought through it. Stupidly.

Tuesday morning I went in for my ERCP. Once out of sedation, the doctor explained that I really needed to get my gallbladder removed, but that the on-call surgeon that day ‘wasn’t feeling well, and preferred not to operate’.


I knew what this meant. I had been forewarned by the ER doctor on Thursday. It meant that with the ERCP done, I was no longer in crisis, and would be relegated to the wait list for gallbladder surgery.

The doctor who performed the ERCP had inserted a stent into my bile duct to help the bile flow through should there be a delay in me getting the surgery.

The stint needs to come out in 3 months or less.

The gallbladder removal surgery wait list is approximately 3 months long.

A conundrum.

That night the pain got so bad that I went back to the ER

They repeated blood work, did a set of abdominal x-rays and watched me ignored me as I writhed in agony for 4.5 hours to finally advise me that it seems I have “mild pancreatitis”. My lypase count was 3,096; normal range is 23 – 300.

Because, yeah, that’s what happens when you LET THIS SHIT FESTER FOR DAYS ON END.


I looked at the ER doctor, so…this is the condition I was warned me about last Thursday – the one I was told I required me to be admitted to hospital. So, what now?

“Well, unfortunately we have no beds available tonight, so I could admit you, but you’d have to spend the night on a gurney, connected to a morphine-filled IV, in the hallway.”

I declined his generous offer.

He made me commit to return to the ER the following night to repeat my labs and ensure I hadn’t deteriorated. And he offered me a doggie bag of narcotics. Never haven taken any before, I nodded as he suggested percocet.

Wednesday I actually felt somewhat human again. The pain was manageable, so I never dipped into my party favors. I only went back to Emergency because he made me swear I would.

Another four hours of my life wasted that I can never get back. All to do a basic blood test. My labs had improved, he told me. They were still bad (lypase still > 600), but a vast improvement over the previous night.

The following morning I was scheduled for a repeat ultrasound at 9:30 am. A nauseating, blinding pain woke me up at 6:30. I took the first percocet of my life. A decision I would regret 2 hours later when I tried, without success, to walk, to talk, to stand, even. The trip to the hospital and ultrasound were a drug-hazed blur, and I was soon back in bed.

Several hours later, the effects of the percocet having dissipated, the pain continued to build. For the first time, after 10 days of pain, I found a level of pain that brought me to tears.

My husband drove me back to the ER (That’s 3 nights in a row for those of you keeping count.)

5 hours later, I was told NO, they would not operate on me because mine wasn’t a life-threatening condition. “But we could be doing a better job at pain management.”

No, how about you ADDRESS THE CAUSE OF MY PAIN instead of trying to mask it?


So, after telling him I didn’t want to go near percocet ever again, I got a shot of morphine in the ass, And I left with a prescription for 30 morphine tablets. That was last Thursday.

Finally, yesterday, 2 weeks from the start of this nightmare, and I finally got a consultation with the surgeon who will be removing my gallbladder.

Yes, you need to have it removed. That is not even a question. No, I can’t tell you exactly when. There is a bit of a wait.

I implored him to have a heart. To please help me get to resolution on this.

He reluctantly agreed to pencil me in for surgery, in the ER, when he’s on call a week Tuesday. It’s cheating the system.

But there is no guarantee it will happen.

If “real” emergencies show up that day, I will get bumped.

Still, hope springs eternal. And I truly believe that on April 21st I will get this fucker pulled from my body.

Because the alternative is unimaginable.

gallbladder out

If you can, please send positive thoughts and healing vibes my way. If you’re the praying sort, I’ll gladly accept any and all manner of prayer, to any and all manner of deity, too.

I’m not a whiner, but the truth is, I’ve endured a giant shit storm since 03/31/15 and I’d love to put this behind me and get on with my life. And onto the task of unpacking 6,000,000 boxes of shit from my move.

Keep moving,

xoxo nancy

127 thoughts on “you’ve got some gall, buddy

  1. Nancy, Unbelievable! Unbelievable! I’m so sorry! I can’t even begin to imagine the pain and how terrible this has been, and the “poor timing” doesn’t help with stress. I can only imagine you’ve been very frightened along the way as well as in pain. I’m the “praying sort” and I can do that as well as send all the positive energy I can muster, and let’s get this job done a week Tuesday! oxo

    • 3 days and counting, Debra. I am only allowing positive thoughts in my head. This will happen Tuesday! 🙂

      Thanks you for your kind thoughts, well wishes and prayers. I’ll accept all with much gratitude. xoxo

  2. OMG!! That’s insane! Am feeling wretchedly sorry you’ve gone through all of this in the midst of a move. Sending oodles of good vibes your way and all the best for a speedy recovery.

    • Thanks, Carissa. I genuinely try not to waste time whining about stuff because I realize in the big scheme of things, there are a lot of people whose problems are a lot worse than mine. But this time, this time I just felt like, holy fuck. Like, really, Universe? Really?
      Fingers crossed that in T-minus 2 days I get to put this behind me.

  3. Oh, my god, Nancy. I am floored by the level of medical treatment you’ve received. I can’t believe you’ve not gone postal in that hospital. My heart is crushing for you.
    Are you having it laparoscopically done? If so, you might want to talk to your surgeon about the need for an intraoperative cholangiogram. I’m no doctor, but I’ve attended a bazillion lectures on gallbladder removal and seen more than my fair share of argument surgeons have with whether or not they want to “waste time” with the cholangiogram. Without it–this x-ray that will display the common bile duct as it connects liver and small intestine–it increases the chance that the surgeon can cut or damage the common bile duct. I won’t even go into the details of thereafter, but DO speak to your surgeon about it and also research the subject yourself.
    I will cross all every available limb and digit that things go well for you. I promise prayers and toasts to your good health will be thrown in there too for good measure.
    I so wish you better, Nancy. I’ll be thinking of you.

    • Shelley, just when I thought I had looked into every possible angle, you go and throw a new one at me. Thanks a lot! Just kidding. I’m quite grateful that you’ve highlighted the IOC procedure for me. Yes, they plan to remove the gallbladder laparoscopically, but the surgeon never mentioned the IOC being a component. They did my ERCP under x-ray, so I can’t imagine that they wouldn’t do the surgery the same way – but better to be safe (and verify). I’ll call the surgeon’s office tomorrow. (Although I have visions of them telling me to go piss off, since they’re doing me a favour sneaking me in on Tuesday MAYBE.) Sigh. I just want this nightmare to be over.

      • I’m sorry if I’ve added to the anxiety, Nancy. I just want you to be safe. I cannot tell you about the number of panels I’ve watched where people are arguing over the standard of care for laparoscopic surgery–and in particular, cholecystectomy.
        As Ronnie Reagan used to say, “Trust, but verify.”
        Be well. I’m thinking of you.

  4. Hi Nancy….haven’t heard a peep out of you here on your blog but I was thinking of you and came by to see if there was anything new. I sincerely hope you’ve been able to get your surgery and that all is well. If not I hope you know that all your cyber buddies are hoping and pray’in for you! Hang in there!!!! ~Kathy

  5. Pingback: is there a doctor in the house? | my year[s] of sweat!

  6. Pingback: coming up for air | my year of sweat

  7. Pingback: let the games begin | my year of sweat

  8. Pingback: day 1: a wake-up call | my year of sweat

  9. Pingback: and then my head exploded | my year of sweat

Talk to me

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s