(I used that post title as a hashtag but it cracks me up so much I had to use it again).
Holy shit I can think. They took out my gallbladder today and I can think again. The power of pain is greatly underestimated. I think this sucker has been bothering me longer than I may have realized. I woke up two weeks ago Sunday in the worst pain I’ve had in some time. It was different than the chronic pain stuff. It was hot and burning and pushing and radiating and angry. My other pain is sorrowful but this pain was maaaad. I had an event I had to get to downtown that morning so I made myself get up and go and hand out some flyers. But I couldn’t stay, my body was screaming at me. And the drive home I screamed in the car that my gallbladder was dying. It’s all I could think to do because it hurt so dang much. That’s what it felt like and I just knew it. And I asked for help over and over and over again until I got it. I’m in pain right now, don’t get me wrong, and they say the next three days won’t be easy, but just hours after surgery I can feel it gone, the misery bag that my little gallbladder had become, and thereby I became. I couldn’t eat. I didn’t eat for a week. No. Joke. I had a bowl of soup tonight and it was so effing good omg. Then a box of Mac and cheese and man was that good, too. I can’t believe we let people go without food in this country. I’m sorry I’ll say it, food and water should be free for shits sake. Call me whatever label you want but I’m so done. Why would we do this to other human beings? When you can’t have it, it’s awful to think of those who just don’t get to have it. They just don’t have food. WTFF America.
This pain the last few weeks was so bad I couldn’t focus enough to do anything but lay here and just think. There’s been a lot of laying and waiting while my family has been with sitting around and waiting with me. So, the other day when my dad asked if I have a living will, I couldn’t stop thinking about it. It isn’t a bad question at all and got me thinking: I’m alone now, that’s just a fact. I need to think of grown up shit like that. So my grown up response was to write a letter whilst on narcotic pain meds using a pencil and some lined paper. That’s growned ups, right? I just wrote a quick front and back 2-pager about what to do in the event of my untimely demise. But half the letter was just me soapboxin’ how I tend to do sometimes. I lined some of what I wrote in black micron and decided I might as well share it.
A few silver lining sidenotes about today. I’m OK. I’m good. I really feel OK and it’s nice to say that after the last two weeks. My Maahm (Minnesotan for Mom) got me some cozy socks and a microwave neck warmer at the gift shop and the fact that I’ve gone this long without one of these neck warmers with my cervical spine praahblems (Minnesotan for problems) is madness. Perhaps the best part of the day besides ridding myself of my angry lil gallmadder was running into an old friend at the hospital. I’ve been going to the hospital I volunteered at in high school. I logged 400+ hours there and did so working at the patient information desk with this woman named Cheryl. I haven’t seen her for 16 years and as I hobbled to admitting there she was at the info desk and I just looked at her and she remembered me right away and we gave each other the biggest hug. She reminded me that I used to walk out in front of the big desk and would pretend to walk down some stairs that didn’t exist, haha. So dumb. It was the perfect soul to see on my way to that life event.
Life shakes me up like nothing else, man. It’s such a trip. See ya next fall. Hahha thanks for reading.