They Come In Threes

Last Tuesday I woke up with a stomach bug. I didn’t immediately identify it as a stomach bug thanks to my gallbladder issues but it was, in fact, a stomach bug. It lasted until sometime on Friday.

I was rear ended last Wednesday. I was on my way to work for a few hours in the afternoon when whammo. All up in my car’s rear end. I get to start the repairs and get my rental today.

My dog puked up pink frothy vomit and that could be congestive heart failure or lung infection or nothing that bad so we’ll see. She is NOT allowed to be sick right now. I cannot handle it. She’s my little mini me in doggy format and maybe she’s just having sympathy gallbladder failure.

This morning I woke up fine but then I drank water and immediately could feel my gallbladder and I’m fucking OVER IT.

My birthday was over the weekend and my boyfriend did such a lovely job of making the day feel so special. We didn’t even do anything major but he just has this way, y’all. I felt so happy and loved. Even when I ate two tortilla chips and almost died, puked on the side of road, and at his house and then didn’t get to eat anything but the cake he made me.

That’s right. All I can eat is Oreo cheesecake and cream o’ wheat with brown sugar. My gallbladder is going to give me diabetes. It’s like I’m in some weird real life episode of the Twilight Zone.  All she ever wanted was to eat cake…well…be careful what you wish for….ALL YOU CAN EVER EAT AGAIN IS CAKE!!! It’s not as fun as you would think it is.

I’m still low key dehydrated from the stomach bug but I just can’t drink a lot of water at once like I need to as it hurts my gallbladder and I’m down 4 pounds, which was 5 at one point, and this is not the best way to lose weight but….fine. I’m now only 11 pounds from my goal. *shrug*

Frustration is the tone here. Major fucking frustration.


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