Emergency Gallbladder Surgery Chronicles
From June 2023
I got my gallbladder removed two weeks ago. I wrote about the first week and recovery from it. I think documenting my experience is especially important after masks were removed from healthcare. Here it is:
The week before, I had a lot of joint pain and went to the doctor. He ran some tests and we found out my CRP and sed rate levels (inflammation) were extremely high, which is very unusual for me. I was tested for more autoimmune diseases and all came back negative. We had no idea why my inflammation levels were so high.
Then on Sunday night, on June 18th, I started having pain on the right side of my abdomen. Because I had just eaten dinner, and I’m used to stomach pain, I figured it was indigestion or acid reflux. Two hours went by and the pain had not subsided. I started googling things that can cause right side abdomen pain and of course, the appendix is a big concern. I took about twenty minutes to decide to go to the emergency room. I was scared because of the risk of coronavirus and because I kind of hate going to the ER anyway. I’m afraid of being sent away without any help or that it’ll turn out I didn’t need to go. I have been to the ER a few times and regardless of how necessary it may be, I absolutely dread it. In the end I decided to go in case I had appendicitis.
There weren't too many people there. Surprisingly, it was mostly families there for their children. I saw a child come in on a stretcher while his family prayed around him. That was the hardest thing to see. I hope the child is okay.
I got a room pretty quickly. I hated that the nurses weren't wearing masks. I didn't know how to ask them to put one on. I was mostly just focused on the pain I was in. I hoped my mask was enough for the time I was there. I figured it wouldn't be too long.
I ended up taking a nap because they must have been busy. I woke up around 10, two hours after I went to the ER. A doctor saw me, asked questions, and told me she was doing blood work and a CT scan later. She said her main concern was appendicitis.
My blood was drawn. It hurts more than I was used to. The blood work came back with my white blood cell count a little high and my sodium low. They hooked me up to an IV for electrolytes. I thought maybe low sodium could be causing my pain. Maybe it was the only problem and I could go home in a couple hours.
They didn't take me for the CT scan for another few hours. I thought maybe they decided not to do it. Around midnight, a nurse brought a wheelchair to bring me to where the CT scan was. Standing up gave me excruciating pain. I was wheeled through the hospital to the CT scan area. I had the ct scan, it was pretty uneventful.
I started googling my symptoms. When I was more specific, I got a result for an inflamed gallbladder. I was scared. What if that's what I have? It said you might need surgery for it. I didn't want any surgery. I was hoping they found nothing wrong and it just went away.
And then I saw in my email that I had new test results. They said I had a very inflamed gallbladder. Based on the scan, it had probably been causing me issues for a while without me knowing it was the cause of my symptoms. The inflamed gallbladder is likely the cause of my inflammation.
I messaged my parents and my boyfriend to let them know. The doctor still hadn't talked to me and didn't talk to me for another half hour.
The doctor came in and told me the diagnosis that I already knew. She said I would be staying in the ER overnight and talk to the surgeon in the morning about the next steps. She told me sometimes they just treat it with antibiotics and the problems go away, but they are likely to come back, possibly even more severe than before. Despite my fear of surgery, it sounded better than coming back with more problems. They treated me with IV antibiotics in the meantime.
My dad came to visit to keep me company. I was very upset about the fact that I might have surgery and that I had to stay overnight. I got a little bit of sleep on the ER bed and my dad slept in the chair. My mother came to visit the next morning. I was grateful for their support.
The next day, my mother came to visit. When we were talking to a nurse, we had one of the most infuriating interactions.
First, we happened to be talking about chronic pain. She starts talking about how she believes most people with chronic pain really only need exercise and an ibuprofen rather than prescription medicine or other treatments. One of us mentions how we both have Fibromyalgia and she says "Fibromyalgia is a non-specific set of issues." I know enough about the ableism directed towards people with chronic illness to know she's trying to subtly say it isn't a real diagnosis. I bite my tongue because my care is in her hands.
Then she goes on about how great yoga is and how many great yoga centers there are in our area. My mother asks if there are any that offer remote options because I'm trying to stay safe from COVID. The nurse says "COVID is everywhere. You can either try to avoid COVID or participate in life." I can no longer bite my tongue. I say something about how I don't think we've done enough to try to stop it and I believe there's more we can still do. She thinks I'm saying she specifically hasn't done enough, and she defensively goes on about how she wore a mask every day for two years. Wow, thanks so much. But it still exists and you're not wearing one now, while other people in the room are because they have health conditions.
My mother brings up my health conditions and how I'm finishing school. She changes her tune a little and says well yeah, you just have to do what you need to do to stay safe. But I am still focused on the words she said a few minutes ago. Thankfully I don't have to deal with her much longer.
I meet with another doctor about surgery and we decide it's my best option. I still have pain sometimes even though I am on opioids. I have a bad reaction to one of the opioids (severe nausea) so they switch me to another. I nearly pass out on my way back from the bathroom once, and the nurse finds me and they check my blood pressure. It's incredibly low, which I later find out could have been the opioids, though we initially assume it's because I haven't taken my POTS medication. When the maskless nurses hand me my pills or ask to take my temperature, they expect me to take my mask off while they stand there. I am in pain and I feel like I have no choice but to do as I'm told if I want care. Thankfully I never got COVID from them despite lifting my mask for a minute a couple times.
I am admitted to the hospital where I get my own room.
Thankfully people are more understanding of my mask requests in the hospital. I ask if they'll wear masks in surgery because I can't. When I meet the surgeon he asks if he should put on a mask. The main nurse taking care of me puts it in my notes for care that I want everyone to wear a mask in my room, and they do.
At several points, I mention that historically I have needed more anesthesia than initially given and that this could be due to my potential diagnosis of Ehlers Danlos.
I go into surgery. I remember being wheeled there. I remember being scared. I remember hearing some conversations that people had. Then it goes black.
Until I wake up DURING surgery.
I try to speak and tell them to put me back under, but I can't speak and this confuses me. I can't move either. I don't know why and this is terrifying to me. I am in pain.
But somebody must have noticed eventually because I don't remember anything else from surgery. Yet the brief memory haunts and disturbs me. It is now my "medical trauma" but I don't know how to process it or how much anyone is to blame. I just know there aren't enough guidelines for patients like me who are somewhat resistant to anesthesia, and doctors don't take us seriously enough.
The worst things I remember about the early days of recovery are:
Not being able to sleep through the night, waking up every three hours in excruciating pain and having to page the nurse for more meds.
Having to learn how to sleep on my back, which I still have to do
Crunching sensations every time I moved, and feeling as if my organs are moving around
The way it hurt if I yawned, coughed, or bent my waist. It still hurts when I do these things, but only a little bit. I still try not to bend whenever possible.
The pain the first few days being the worst. I was almost worried that there was something wrong
The itching of my incisions after a couple days passed. I had to remember not to itch them. Sometimes I forgot.
The memory of waking up during surgery being so fresh in my brain that it haunted me
The nausea, which lasted all day and made eating a challenge
The fatigue, which is the biggest problem I am still facing, though it’s hard to tell what’s my normal fatigue and what’s surgery fatigue
No longer drinking caffeine because it might upset my stomach now. I am far more tired without it
Having to adjust to a whole new diet. I mostly ate soup for a while and I still rely on it a lot. I still try to mostly eat low-fat because that’s what’s best after gallbladder surgery.
Having even more anxiety about surgery complications and health issues the first few days
The sore throat from intubation. It went away after a few days but it was hell. I had to have so many cough drops. Also, side note, intubation is actually the reason I could not talk during surgery. The reason I couldn’t move is that patients are given a drug that paralyzes them.
Worsened acid reflux and excessive hunger. Those were annoying.
Basically, I received fairly good care after surgery and have had a pretty normal recovery. It’s hard but not as bad as I thought it would be so far. I no longer have the aching burning in my stomach in the morning that I used to have. I use ice packs and heating pads and rest constantly. I still have a bit of pain, soreness, and fatigue but that’s to be expected.
Now I just have to continue recovering and learning how to live without a gallbladder.
As far as the negative aspects of my experience go, I am glad that people are fighting the lifting of mask requirements in hospitals and I hope this continues to bring change, and I hope more patients who experience some level of resistance to anesthesia are listened to, especially ones with Ehlers-Danlos Syndrome. It also took a long time to diagnose my gallbladder issues because I had gastroenterologists label my stomach problems simply “functional dyspepsia" without running tests, and I hope this changes as well.