Well, I’m holding steady. The good news is that I met with a wonderful gastroenterologist on Friday and he did not recommend surgery. He said that in cases like mine, gallbladder removal only improves symptoms in *one third* of patients. One third has the same symptoms after surgery and one third gets worse. Hell no. I’ll keep the thing, at least for now.
The pain is slightly improved this week, but I’m still uncomfortable and still bloated. I’m taking my herbal tincture (which tastes like the floor of a hospital) and enzymes and going to acupuncture and going to sleep super early, and trying to keep things moving through me. But overall, it’s a drag. I’m a drag. Oh I know I should be positive and grateful that it isn’t anything more serious—things could always be worse—but I’m sick of feeling like this. A few of you have commented that I seem to be dealing with it so gracefully, but really I’m not. I want to feel like myself again and eat peanut butter on gluten free toast. (It’s gluten-free, for heaven’s sake.) And some chocolate. And maybe an egg salad sandwich. (We were watching Ramona and Beezus last night and there is a scene in which the girls are eating gummy bears. I almost wept with longing. I haven’t eaten gummy bears in a very long time, and I don’t even like them that much. This is what I’ve been reduced to, people.)
Tomorrow I’ll be heading to Danbury, Wisconsin for my winter Motherhood & Words Retreat, and even though I’ll be “on” all weekend, I’m hoping that healing place will work its magic on me. After my afternoon conferences, I might try a slow ski around the pond. And I’ll have a massage after my last conference on Saturday. (The massages are new this year, and I’m very excited about them!)
I always come home from this retreat energized by my students’ stories, by the work they’ve done, but I’m hoping that this year I’ll also come home feeling a little better. Maybe?