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I started having another gallbladder attack around seven last night, so I ate some soup and waited around to see if it would get worse. When it definitely seemed like it was getting worse, I mentally said "fuck it" and had a small bowl of ice cream, then had Carl call my mom to come over to watch Miranda.
We got to the E.R. around nine and, surprisingly, it was nearly deserted and they were able to see me right away! I was pleasantly surprised and I'm thankful we went to University Hospital, because they actually gave me pain medication, did an ultrasound (which revealed "thousands of tiny gallstones"), and made me an appointment with a surgical practice for March sixteenth! Previously the best I was able to get was an appointment for a gallstone ultrasound in May, so my E.R. visit did yield good results in that respect, at least.
My mom and dad watched Miranda for me again today while I slept off the pain medication, which still had me dizzy and nauseated at noon today; I'm very sensitive to pain medications, especially narcotics, so getting the medication in my I.V. was rough on me, but not nearly as bad as the gallbladder pain. They prescribed an opiate pain reliever that is supposedly safe to take while breastfeeding, but I'm dubious.
The doctors and nurses, both residents and faculty, were all very attentive and considerate once it became apparent that I wasn't just after drugs and they weren't at all rude before that, just brisk and business-like; the overall bedside manner of the whole staff became pleasant after I was first examined by a resident (and he was sweet to begin with).
I suppose I can thank my Bedstemor and Grandmother Clinton for predisposing me to gallstones, but at least this experience has made me thankful for modern medicine.
I'm going to try to make it to Jodi's Mardi Gras party tomorrow, but I just don't know how I'll feel. I'm still a bit disoriented and sore from the pain medications and I'm anxious about the possibility of having another attack away from home. I may just make cookies (which I'm not supposed to eat) and stay home with my little family.
We got to the E.R. around nine and, surprisingly, it was nearly deserted and they were able to see me right away! I was pleasantly surprised and I'm thankful we went to University Hospital, because they actually gave me pain medication, did an ultrasound (which revealed "thousands of tiny gallstones"), and made me an appointment with a surgical practice for March sixteenth! Previously the best I was able to get was an appointment for a gallstone ultrasound in May, so my E.R. visit did yield good results in that respect, at least.
My mom and dad watched Miranda for me again today while I slept off the pain medication, which still had me dizzy and nauseated at noon today; I'm very sensitive to pain medications, especially narcotics, so getting the medication in my I.V. was rough on me, but not nearly as bad as the gallbladder pain. They prescribed an opiate pain reliever that is supposedly safe to take while breastfeeding, but I'm dubious.
The doctors and nurses, both residents and faculty, were all very attentive and considerate once it became apparent that I wasn't just after drugs and they weren't at all rude before that, just brisk and business-like; the overall bedside manner of the whole staff became pleasant after I was first examined by a resident (and he was sweet to begin with).
I suppose I can thank my Bedstemor and Grandmother Clinton for predisposing me to gallstones, but at least this experience has made me thankful for modern medicine.
I'm going to try to make it to Jodi's Mardi Gras party tomorrow, but I just don't know how I'll feel. I'm still a bit disoriented and sore from the pain medications and I'm anxious about the possibility of having another attack away from home. I may just make cookies (which I'm not supposed to eat) and stay home with my little family.
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