On Star Wars day they had me "scoot over a bit more" onto the surgical table, bid me goodnight and opened up a small slit below my belly button, shoved some high tech viewing device just under my ribs and delicately robotically danced my stone filled gall bladder out of my body. In a two-fer move, they then repaired my somewhat embarrassing umbilical hernia. I asked the surgeon if I could keep the gall bladder to try to sell on the bear gall bladder black market, but evidently the hospital has pesky rules and regulations about such shenanigans.
Back to recovery in under 90 minutes by my reckoning....could have been much less than that before my brain was once again on "record mode", and back to a secondary recovery room to be reunited with Mrs kansasdad shortly after that.
The ride home a couple of hours later was ever so car sickish, and then on slightly wobbly legs I fell into bed and took a good nap, awakening to her Dr Phil ask his most famous question of all, "how's that working for you?"
Mrs kansasdad did a fine job of being helpful and good company, and thankfully she didn't have to do much if any nursing. A PBH (peanut butter and honey) sandwich sounded good, and tasted great, and before you know it it was time for Survivor to be aired. Having slept on the operating table, snoozed in recovery and then taking an extended nap in the late afternoon, (and maybe a good dose of intra-operative steroids??) I didn't again feel sleepy until well after midnight.
The office is open for patients today, and the plan was for me to stay home, sitting on my keester doing nothing. Instead, I'm at the office, sitting on my keester, and every hour walking back to chat with the hygiene patients, do the exam and treatment plan, and make that sweet sweet cheddar charging the exam fees.... and sharing this medical news with all my HuntTalk friends.
I am so thankful to be living in the 21st century. If it was 40 years ago I would be sporting a two 5 inch long incisions, having had an open gall bladder removal and an open hernia repair, with staples not so gracefully holding my skin together, on moderately high doses of narcotics, and destined to be discharged from the hospital in another day or two. Super glue for-the-win on skin closure, and only Mobic (prescription ibuprofen cousin) for pain prevention, and I doing very well.
I only had had three of four hints of trouble (a feeling of heart burn, but in the right side of ribcage edge), before having a good bout of nausea that lasted for 4 or so hours in early January. Nausea strong enough that it really bothered me, but not enough to not go try to get a doe for the freezer. The urine and poop color changes made me realize that I needed to be examined, and the sky high liver enzyme results had my MD/hunting buddy talking such words as metastasis, and liver diseases. Fortunately the ultrasound found the stones, and the enzyme panels returned quickly to normal, once the bile flow blockage event was over.
Miss Corona came along and delayed the surgery, and the 60 day penalty box for surgery post COVID was in effect until mid April, which is the opening of turkey season in Kansas. So I opted for surgery a couple of weeks into the season, figuring I would have my first turkey in hand by the surgery date. (I did, and he's a good one)
Gall bladders are for chumps, as @kansasson remarked. I'm glad I'm a healing non-chump.
Back to recovery in under 90 minutes by my reckoning....could have been much less than that before my brain was once again on "record mode", and back to a secondary recovery room to be reunited with Mrs kansasdad shortly after that.
The ride home a couple of hours later was ever so car sickish, and then on slightly wobbly legs I fell into bed and took a good nap, awakening to her Dr Phil ask his most famous question of all, "how's that working for you?"
Mrs kansasdad did a fine job of being helpful and good company, and thankfully she didn't have to do much if any nursing. A PBH (peanut butter and honey) sandwich sounded good, and tasted great, and before you know it it was time for Survivor to be aired. Having slept on the operating table, snoozed in recovery and then taking an extended nap in the late afternoon, (and maybe a good dose of intra-operative steroids??) I didn't again feel sleepy until well after midnight.
The office is open for patients today, and the plan was for me to stay home, sitting on my keester doing nothing. Instead, I'm at the office, sitting on my keester, and every hour walking back to chat with the hygiene patients, do the exam and treatment plan, and make that sweet sweet cheddar charging the exam fees.... and sharing this medical news with all my HuntTalk friends.
I am so thankful to be living in the 21st century. If it was 40 years ago I would be sporting a two 5 inch long incisions, having had an open gall bladder removal and an open hernia repair, with staples not so gracefully holding my skin together, on moderately high doses of narcotics, and destined to be discharged from the hospital in another day or two. Super glue for-the-win on skin closure, and only Mobic (prescription ibuprofen cousin) for pain prevention, and I doing very well.
I only had had three of four hints of trouble (a feeling of heart burn, but in the right side of ribcage edge), before having a good bout of nausea that lasted for 4 or so hours in early January. Nausea strong enough that it really bothered me, but not enough to not go try to get a doe for the freezer. The urine and poop color changes made me realize that I needed to be examined, and the sky high liver enzyme results had my MD/hunting buddy talking such words as metastasis, and liver diseases. Fortunately the ultrasound found the stones, and the enzyme panels returned quickly to normal, once the bile flow blockage event was over.
Miss Corona came along and delayed the surgery, and the 60 day penalty box for surgery post COVID was in effect until mid April, which is the opening of turkey season in Kansas. So I opted for surgery a couple of weeks into the season, figuring I would have my first turkey in hand by the surgery date. (I did, and he's a good one)
Gall bladders are for chumps, as @kansasson remarked. I'm glad I'm a healing non-chump.
