Nine very short months ago, I wrote a little blog post about my internal organs doing some remodeling out of jealousy that our home was being remodeled. What many of you don’t know, is that a week before that appendix rupture, I was in the same emergency room, with the same doctor and nurses, because a fire in my chest was burning out of control. I was given heartburn medicine and then sent on my way.

Fast forward to last week and the raging fire was burning out of control. I had to go to an emergency room because it was a holiday weekend and I had already been suffering since the middle of the night.

It was dawn and I was unconvinced I was going to make it out of the weekend alive.

It did not get better.

DocMan was an asshole. Now, I try to give the benefit of the doubt that he was a great doctor who was having a bad day, but I’m the kid of an ER Nurse, I know what’s going on. He had just come on shift, the ER was not crowded at all, and the trauma rooms were empty. Still, I was taken to the way back room where they put you when they think you’re not in real trouble. I tried to tell DocMan that I have a high pain tolerance and a respect for emergency rooms, but he wanted nothing to do with me.

So Hubster spent the next few hours watching me sit there with no fluids, a very small shot of pain meds that wore off with incredible speed, and numerous suffering sighs that conveyed my despair of impeding doom. After months of agonizing, multiple doctor and ER visits, and medicines that never worked, I was going to die in the back of an ER because some DocMan thought I was playing up the symptoms. I’d like to take this moment to officially announce to the world –

THE FAT KID CREED

Nothing interferes with the eating schedule.

Sleeping is the only acceptable form of exercise.

Any activity that interferes with these two goals must be halted immediately. 

So as you can see, spending hours in an ER while not being allowed to eat or sleep is not something I’m going to do unless it is absolutely necessary to continue breathing.

Keep ignoring me, I bet my medical problem is only getting better while we do nothing.

After finally remembering I was in the back of the ER, DocMan decides to get me into imaging and I hit the x-ray room first. According to the radiologist, my gallbladder was looking a little large. Back to my back room I went where a nurse rushed in and apologized and then gave me another bit of morphine. Because obviously it has been hours and I’m sweating buckets again while fire burns me from the inside out. Sidenote, I never want to be a vampire…

DocMan decides it’s time to get serious and he sends me to get an ultrasound. I immediately knew something was wrong because the technician was taking a metric ass ton of photos and she refused to tell me how things looked. I was worried, but more than that I just wanted the fire to stop after nine months of searing my innards like a Labor Day picnic hot dog. Which I was missing out on since I was in the fucking hospital being ridiculous apparently!

See Fat Kid Creed above.

DocMan comes back into the room and I can immediately tell by his changed demeanor that I’m about to hear an apology from a doctor. It comes in the form of a statement of fact that I had deducted months ago – I needed to have my gallbladder removed. I decided to mess with him a bit since I’d been suffering for hours and had no one else to torment. I used my “innocent face” to ask if I could schedule it for next week since it obviously wasn’t a big deal and I haven’t even been given an IV to push fluids or real medicine to help with the fire. That’s when I get the real apology face, it’s an emergency and I’m having surgery NOW and I don’t have the option of waiting. The gallbladder was huge, there was a complete blockage of the duct, and it was showing off an amazing infection to complete the trifecta of torture.

I got to ride in my second ambulance in nine months – but this time I was lucid enough to remember the ride. I’m really beginning to like ambulances, everyone gets out of the way, people are waiting for you upon your arrival…this is how celebrities feel, isn’t it?! I asked the EMT for a codename and she and her partner gamely started calling me Bulldog.

I think there’s a small chance that I talk about Lola a lot.

P.S. My body is tired from all its remodeling. My liver is now organizing itself into a new shape because it wants to fill up the empty cavity that my torso is quickly becoming. My colon is definitely thinking of staging a coup and I fear the left kidney and/or pancreas are in its sights.

P.P.S. Will someone please bring me a hotdog now that I’ve missed all the holiday weekend festivities?!?!

P.P.P.S. I still haven’t had anyone throw in some liposuction while operating on me. Isn’t there some kind of frequent flyer card that I’ve filled up yet?! A rewards program perhaps, maybe even a BOGO offer that I can cash in?!

Check out my Facebook page @ShankYouHeather and @ShankYouDesigns

I also tweet like a bird on Twitter @HeatherKeet

You can also find me on Instagram @ShankYouHeather and @ShankYouDesigns

Lola and I opened a store so we can sell our funniest blog sayings on cool stuff. Check it out at Shank You Very Much

26 replies on “I like you even less than you like me…”

  1. Oh gosh poor you! This sounds awful, I hope you are recovering? I have a lot of gall bladder issues and the pain from that can be excruciating, god knows how terrible you must have been feeling! Sending you lots of healing vibes. #momsterslink

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    1. I am definitely on the way to healing. It’s been six days and the first thing I noticed was that the heavy “elephant sitting on my chest” feeling was finally gone after 9 months. I didn’t realize how much that bothered me until it was over. And I’m thrilled that the burning fire won’t return, it was just awful. I hope you can get a treatment that provides some relief soon!

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  3. Ouch!! I have never had to go to hospital with any emergency, but my hubby would certainly empathise with you. He had similar excruciating pains that lead to an ambulance ride. It would appear our local hospital take a very haphazzard approach to stomach pains. First they take bloods to check for signs of infection. If infected they whip you up to surgery and take your appendix out. If that workd brilliant, if not they take you back to surgery a week later and remove your gall bladder. Luckily we didnt have to find out what the next thing on the list to remove was!!
    #mmsterslink

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    1. Oh my! I think I’m feeling a little more fortunate about the way they approached my surgeries! If only we had spent a few more minutes thinking back to the week before my appendix ruptured, they could’ve just removed both organs at one time. Oh well, at least now I should be good to go! Your poor hubby, seems pretty haphazard indeed. I at least got images with my blood work so they didn’t remove an organ unnecessarily.

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    1. I really tried to keep my cool, I just couldn’t resist that few minutes of torment that I put the doctor through. The Hubster was cracking up as soon as the doctor left the room but he understood I needed a little bit of comic relief before I went into another surgery that could’ve been carefully planned out if only someone had listened to me for the previous nine months.

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  5. Absolutely awful. I hope you’re recovering well. You must have a high pain threshold indeed! I had a similar experience a few years ago. The doctor in A&E refused to believe there was anything wrong with me despite my horrific pain. He had to put me somewhere as I couldn’t stand up, so sent me to the gynaecology ward at another hospital. Turns out I had a ruptured ovarian cyst which they only discovered the following morning!

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    1. Wow!! That is just insane and I’m so sorry you had to suffer while people were ignoring you. Makes me so sad when doctors dismiss people in pain because they think we’re overstating it. I get that some bad apples come into hospitals for drugs, but the majority of us try to avoid hospitals unless it’s absolutely necessary.

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  6. Oh my word lovely! I mean it’s very considerate of your organs to carry our their own spring cleaning routine but they could have consulted with you first? Love your response to the consultant. Hopefully your innards are of the sane frame if mind as my hubby in that once they’ve done a little burst of remodelling that’s it. Forever. Job done. Hugs xx #momsterslink

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  7. Oh Heather! Bless your heart. What a trauma for you. I am so sorry to hear it but so pleased you stood your ground. What an awful way to be treated. I am sending you a virtual hot dog my lovely. I HATE missing food for ANYTHING too! Hugs x #momsterslink

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  10. Pingback: Momsterslink ~ September 15, 2016 – Domesticated Momster

  11. I am wondering if I might not have the same problem. Removal of gallbladders runs in my family. My question is…if it can be removed and we can still live then why the fuck is it there in the first place. Hope you healed well and thanks for linking up with #momsterslink.

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    1. I asked the exact same question! I got a really long answer, but suffice it to say that the gallbladder helps with digestion, and without it your body just has to work a little harder to do it. And apparently sometimes you can’t eat certain foods because you will find out the hard way that the gallbladder handled all of that. So far, the only thing I can’t have is soda.

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        1. I’m not going to lie, it is very traumatizing to introduce all the food that you love to your body again and pray it doesn’t reject it. But on the plus side, it no longer feels like an elephant sitting on my chest and I’m not kept awake every night with a raging fire in my chest and back.

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