The NeverEnding Story

It's been a while. There's not been a great deal to report on my usual nonsense since I last updated. The usual fuckery has been fuckering on and my mental health has been taking quite a prolonged tumble for a while so it kind of just feels normal at this point. It has made daily things like work more difficult because the anxiety weasels have been a lot louder making me question my abilities and place.

Some difficult decisions had to made after our Hallowe'en party that weighed quite heavily. We have thrown a party every year for around 15 years and it's gotten bigger each year in terms of the decorating, quiz, individual "Trick or Treat" bags, food and drink etc. It has been one of my great joys, when I had the required energy, but as the years have gone by and my health and energy have increasingly waned, it has become more and more difficult. The pre-party prep and the post-party recovery took up almost all of my holiday and it was clearly the right time to call it a day. It's not easy letting something like that go but at the same time, there is relief at reaching the decision. It doesn't mean that Hallowe'en celebrating is over, it will just look very different and a lot more relaxed from now on.

The last few months also saw a new diagnosis. Yay!

About a year ago, I started to get this intense pain after eating. The first time it happened, it went away after about an hour and then it didn't bother me again for a few months. Then it happened again. And again. It went from once every few months, to a fortnight, to weekly. The pain always came within seconds of eating, almost always at dinner time. It was intense, central, right under my ribs, and building, like my stomach was being inflated by a pump. Once it had started, there was no relief. I just got into the habit of leaning forwards and rocking back and forward until it passed. It would generally subside after an hour or two and then I could eat and it was like nothing had happened.

When I described the pain to my husband, he said it sounded exactly like when he had gallstones and he had his gallbladder removed about a decade ago.

I spoke to the GP and got referred for an ultrasound which I had at the beginning of November. The results came back a few days later:

• Fatty deposits on the liver which can be rectified by diet changes. I'm well aware that my diet isn't great and over the years of comfort eating and not being able to exercise without exacerbating my chronic crappery, I've put on a lot of weight.

• Cyst on one of my kidneys. The GP did not sound very concerned about this despite how scary it sounded to me. She said it was a fluid filled sac which would probably resolve on its own.

• 17mm gallstone. I checked Dr. Google after I was told about this. A 17mm gallstone is considered large.

I got a referral for gallbladder removal and arranged to see an upper GI surgeon through my private medical insurance that I get through my work. Thankfully, I got an appointment within a couple of weeks. It was a very easy appointment and I was relieved to meet the surgeon who put me at my ease very quickly. It's so important to feel safe with the person who is going to be poking and removing some of your innards.

The ultrasound report stated that due to the size of the visible gallstone, it created such a shadow that it was difficult to see anything else so the surgeon believes there are probably more gallstones in there.

It was a novelty to me to get answers so quickly and definitively. I've been so accustomed over the years with all my lady parts lamentations to receive just vagueness and shoulder shrugging. Having medications and hormones thrown at me and left to get on with things. It's always been a battle to get answers and I've lost count of the times I've been diagnosed with something where there's no real idea as to why it happens. I've become so primed for disappointment, I can almost feel the deep shrug in my shoulders now.

To be told that something has been causing me intense pain, and this is what it is and this is what can be done, well...it's refreshing.

The surgeon very quickly confirmed that we would go ahead with the gallbladder removal. The official procedure is called a Laparoscopic Cholecystectomy. I spoke to my insurance who authorised it and then I just had to wait to get a surgery date. It was the end of November ar this point and I had faint hopes that it might be done before Christmas, but it wasn't to be, so I went into the Christmas period with daily anxiety about sudden gallstone attacks.

I think that is one of the things I struggled with the most. Don't get me wrong, gallstone attacks are absolutely horrendous, but at least when they happened, I knew they would be over in an hour or two. My anxiety was around when an attack might strike. There wasn't really any rhyme or reason to them for me. I knew that they were more likely to occur after eating fatty foods, but I could eat one particular meal and get an attack within seconds, or I could have the exact same meal days later and it was absolutely fine.

It was the constant fear of it happening that got wearying. I've just been feeling such malaise and lack of motivation these last few months.

Christmas Eve saw me having a gallstone attack which put a dampener on celebrations. My brother was with us for Christmas so I ended up taking myself off to bed for an hour or so for it to pass, and it did, but by then I was pretty exhausted so it was difficult to not feel like the evening had been a write-off.

I am grateful though that the attack came when it did and not on Christmas Day or Boxing Day (my birthday).

Work have been very understanding and I've been very open about what has been going on, because the gallstone pain on its own has been difficult, but it's also been flaring up my regulation rubbish. Sleep has been all over the place and consistently inconsistent and there's always a domino effect once the chronic fatigue starts to bite. I can cope with pain, for the most part and I can manage my mental health with some self-care or quiet wallowing, but chronic fatigue has always been the beast that has bested me, because it makes coping with everything else that much more difficult. I've always felt proud of the persona I present at work. I often get effusive feedback about my positive attitude and cheerfulness. But that shit is tiring.

I have my surgery tomorrow. I've been to the hospital a couple of times over the last week for my pre-operative assessment and blood tests. I'm about as ready for the surgery as I can be. I'm a mix of relaxed and anxious. I had my two laparscopies at this hospital so I know where I'm going and how things will go. My husband is coming with me. My admission is at 7am so I'm glad that it means that the procedure will take place in the morning. The sooner it happens, the sooner I can get discharged to recover at home.

I understand the procedure but I am a little anxious about something going wrong. I know it's quite a routine procedure these days, but there are sometimes complications, particularly if the gallbladder turns out to inflamed/infected. I'm dreading coming round from the anaesthetic to be told that they had to stop or they found something worse. I think they are probably natural anxieties though.

I'm definitely keen to to have my gallbladder removed though. It's escalated to the point where the pain isn't just happening after eating, it's started waking me up in the night writhing too. I remember the surgeon asking me back in November if I ever got the attacks at night, and I very honestly replied no because I hadn't at that point, but I know that it's quite common.

Last night I had another bad gallstone attack. It lasted a couple of hours and the pain was so intense it had me throwing up in the toilet. I hope that is the last hoorah. I am very much looking forward to my gallbladder being gone and not having to feel sick with anxiety every time I eat because of some pesky stones blocking my bile duct.

I've got a medical note for my recovery time. The literature from the hospital says 2-4 weeks so I've been signed off for a fortnight and then we'll see. I remember after my first laparoscopy that the anaesthetic really did a number on me. I was really sick after it and I really felt exhausted for a while after. After my seond though the anaesthetic didn't affect me as much but I remember being in a lot more pain after. We'll just have to see what the roulette spin decides this time.

I'm hoping to be able to have some quiet recovery at home and just relax with some books and The Haunting of Hill House, my comfort TV series.

Today I'm going to relax as much as possible and quiet my brain weasels to a dull chitter. I've made a checklist of everything I need to take with me to the hospital so I'm going to get everything packed soon. The taxi is booked for tomorrow morning and hopefully I will find out where I am on the list so I'll know if I have much hanging around to do. Made sure my Kindle is on my checklist and my husband will have my tablet so he can watch Netflix or something while he waits for me. I'm really appreciative that he will be there for me.