as yellow as a pumpkin

Well, I didn't get up the next morning and feel better, or the next, or the next, or the next or the next, and so on.  I did manage to have a fun time with my great friends at Jacklyn and Zachary's wedding.  I boogied down.  Danae saved me a seat, just as we discussed, and a good time was had. 

Thank you Lance, for the great photos.

But when Monday morning came and I still didn't feel better it was to the hospital I went (with mom, but I drove).  And it was in the hospital I stayed until today, at five, when they released me.

The doc in the er began my examination with his eyes closed, maybe in concentration, maybe trying to get images of other patients he had seen naked out of his head.  After we chatted for a while he started to examine me and suddenly became much friendly either when he saw my teeth, I told him I worked for a newspaper, or the fact that "I looked like a pumpkin" (according to him).  I guess by that point I had turned pretty yellow.  Our relationship came to a quick halt, even though by this time we had warmed up to each other and he had me laughing (which might be construed at slightly sadistic because of the pain it caused me).

Upstairs they got me settled in, I was allotted the clear, liquid menu and cut off from everything that wasn't coming in from a needle-made hole and tube by midnight.

Tuesday, I went into surgery and they got that gallbladder out, the surgeon said it was kind of big (he also saved me two stones and photos, how sweet).  After they got the gallbladder out via a couple incisions on my belly and the illusive one in my bellybutton that I have yet to see for myself, according to the doc they flipped me over and other doc came in a did some sort of scope to find all the stones clogging my bile ducts.  There were three.

Since Tuesday, I've been hobbling around the hospital, watching mind-numbing HGTV about which expensive house will people buy, and being greeted by a new nurse or aide every time I have to call them to be released from my bed to go to the bathroom.  I had an IV that was plugged in and I couldn't reach it to undo and there were these massaging boots on my legs to promote blood circulation also succeeded in keeping me latched down.

The doc came in Wednesday morning and told my I had a bit of pancreatitis.  That meant no food or drink and another day in the hospital.  I deduced that it was some sort of torture technique to have to empty your bladder of liquid that you don't even get to drink.  

This morning, the vampires came to take my blood, as regularly happens around 4am.  The doctor came to tell me that my numbers were much better, generally, this particular number would be around fifty well mine was about 150 but compared to the day before when it was in the thousands, he saw it as an improvement and I could eat and drink and go home.  HIP HIP HOORAY!

Yes, it wasn't that awful, it could have been worse, but I am totally glad it's over with.  Now on to more important things like:
the wedding of the lovely lady that gave me these get well flowers.

It was humorous how well the flowers matched the taupe (or is it mauve) decor of the hospital but it just made them prettier.

So that is it folks, where I have been for the better (or worse) part of this week.  Now I am officially one of those old ladies that has a jar mysterious stones of her shelf and probably shares too much about her digestive health.  You know you love it.  And if you don't, respect the sickly.