We’ll Make it Out Alive

Instead of talking about my symptoms returning on Saturday and me trying not to spiral into a blob of frustration here’s a song for you to listen to:

This dude liked one of my photos on Instagram so I, naturally, went to check out his ‘gram and I liked what I saw. Then I saw a snippet of a song posted and I hit play and this was it and I loved it immediately. It’s a good song, with good lyrics, and a fun synthy 80’s movie vibe to it so I love it. So, here I am sharing something fun. I hope you like it.


Haters Gonna Hate

Instead of listening to a podcast this morning I waited to hear the radio station play Taylor Swift’s new song and I like it and I’m not even sorry. I know she’s very silly and she’s being drama but I like that she’s not obnoxious and too much in interviews the way Katy Perry is. Katy is just TOO MUCH all of the times and I cannot deal with that. Tone it down, Perry. So, I guess I’m team Taylor and I’m fine with that and not even embarrassed even though I’m 45. Like what you like, is my motto. There are no guilty pleasures. I like plenty of what is universally considered “good music” and it’s totally fine for me to like Taylor Swift and y’all can shake that shit off.

So, there’s my take on current affairs.

Now, to my own current affairs!

Yesterday I did not want to even. I didn’t want to even at all. And by the end of the day, more like by 7pm, I was exhausted from all of the trying to even I’d done. But I woke up this morning and I realized….the deep muscle pain near one of my incisions feels so much better today. So now I’m wondering if my body was just busy healing some shit up yesterday and that is why I wanted to be on the couch and not even with anything. I think this is very scientific and I think I’m right.

Plus, on top of that, I decided to stop being so precious with my body and had begun sitting and moving and walking more naturally instead of favoring shit. And now I’m thinking that next weekend I will go on a hike and this weekend I will do my morning walks! Hell, I may even go to the gym next week and get that routine back in place. Boom! Normalcy.

When I eat sometimes I get a bit of heartburn but it passes, especially if I follow the meal with some dairy product of some sort. That has me a little concerned but I’m still going to give that time before I determine my life will not be what it once was in regards to food and digestion. I have, also, likely started eating the spicy and saucy stuff too soon and maybe should have waited but I wanted to know, y’all. I wanted to know. And I’m impatient. So, I ate the things and mostly the eating of things is fine and that is that the end.

I’ve been wearing the FitBit since Monday and while I haven’t achieved 10k daily steps yet I’m likely walking more than I had been and that’s something!

I’m also back to being accountable on my weight. I lost 5ish pounds during the stomach bug debacle and I’ve only put 2ish back on so that’s nice. A nice little boost. So now I am currently 12.6 pounds from my main goal. My next mini goal is to lose 7.6 pounds. LET’S DO THIS!!

My state of mind is fairly good, I have to say. I had a moment yesterday and that is likely due to the feeling of not wanting to even but today I’m all “Yay!” about life so I’ll go with that because living in the present and being mindful is a good way to be.


I worked all day on Monday and at the end of the day I was exhausted and all of the people that were all “this is routine surgery, you’ll be fine!” beforehand turned into “You had major surgery! Of course you’re tired.” People lie, is the moral to this. They lie to calm you down.

Tuesday morning I was getting ready to leave for work when a major development occurred:



It happened again this morning. As did my period. Because life is funny that way.

I ate the biggest meal yet yesterday, a turkey burger and some sweet potato fries. So far, so good. I’m still holding out final determination until I’m not gassy or crampy or any of the things.

I’m healing well, I’m moving better, I’m sleeping GREAT thanks to being worn the fuck out by being at work and my body healing itself each day. Incisions are itchy, which is a good sign.

A week after surgery and I’m doing pretty swell. I’d say.

So swell that this morning I put my FitBit on the charger so I can start wearing it again and start getting a bit of my routine back in place.

Life is about to be all sorts of normal. Amen.

I’m Alive!

And back to work as I’d planned and all of it! So, let’s recap surgery and the subsequent days, shall we?

Wednesday I was a big ol’ ball of nerves so I made myself busy. I did laundry, I did dishes, I straightened up the house a bit, I made my bed, and on and on. Just, stayed busy. While I’m doing this, I’m making my little spirit dog a nervous wreck and she starts to puke.

My boyfriend comes and takes to the hospital and he’s working and being there with me and I’m OK until I get into the pre-op room and I get into the gown and the bed and have the IV and then oh, man I’m nervous. This is it. I’m having surgery!


So I’m trying to get him to calm me down when I realize…he’s just as nervous, if not more so, than I am and that is the moment when it truly and completely hit me how much I am cared for by this man. I should never ever doubt that again.

The surgeon comes in, the anesthesiologist comes in, nurses come in, and then I’m being wheeled away.

I remember going into the operating room and being impressed with how cool it looks with the huge round lights and all of the equipment and wishing I had a way to take a photo. I remember them hooking up the leg compression socks and them starting to work. And then I wake up in the recovery room immediately queasy as all fuck with a nurse right in my face asking me how I feel. She gives me a shot of something and off I go again to sleep.

But once I’m awake again they start making me move around, they give me 7-Up to sip, I’m freezing and my teeth are chattering so they give me heated blankets, and I want is my boyfriend. So they get him. And it’s all a blur. They wheel me down to the street. He picks me up. We go to the pharmacy. People are telling me things and asking me questions and I likely should not be in charge of information at that time. He gets me home, he gets me settled, he makes sure I am ok and then he leaves. He says “something, something, something….don’t be a hero!” I think the somethings were “call me if you need stuff, don’t over do it!”

I get into bed with Netflix and I sleep. My dogs are loose in the rest of the house and they are being so quiet and so good. It’s like they know. I wake up feeling ok and I take care of them and then we all go to bed and I sleep most of the night. I get up a lot to pee, I recall.

Thursday I wake up feeling remarkably good and I log on to work and check and answer emails. But then things become blurry again and I spent most of Thursday on the couch watching Arrow and letting the dogs in and out and in and out and in and out and then eating things here and there.

Thursday night I tried to get into my bed and everything about that sucked and it felt like I was pulling all of my incisions no matter how I moved and nothing was comfortable and it felt like I was ripping things open and I freaked out and I screamed and cried and wailed and all of this was just a minute but felt so long during and so horrible but then, I was on the floor on my feet and it was all fine. So, I slept on the couch.

One thing nobody at all ever warned me about was the gas. They fill you with air and then you are gassy afterwards and then you are also constipated and that gives you more gas and that is the sexy side effect of surgery that nobody ever tells you. So I’m telling you now. I’m taking a stool softener AND putting Miralax in my morning chocolate milk to get this shit moving. (put not intended but there ya go!)


So, now if YOU have to have surgery you will know this part and it will not catch you by surprise like it did me. The gas pains have, in a lot of ways, been the worst part of the whole thing.

Friday morning they wanted me to come and get my car as it was ready and I was all “I just had surgery and I’m on Percocet and should not be driving!” and the insurance company was all “too bad, so sad” and the collision repair places was all “you fuckers! We’ll save the day!” and brought me my car and took the rental back and nothing bad happened and I love them.

2am Friday was my last Percocet and I feel like a bad ass for only being on ibuprofen now as needed. Boom!

The rest of Friday looked like this:


I finished catching up with Arrow then started catching up with Flash and all was well. A co-worker brought me 7-Up and Reese’s and life was swell.

Saturday I went to a baseball game! I think that was the best thing for me. Walking, moving, fresh air, something to focus on other than just having just had surgery, other people. my boyfriend, LIFE! It was great.

Sunday I drove my boyfriend to lunch! And I ate 1/2 of a grilled chicken sandwich with swiss cheese and some sweet potato fries. Then we hung out at his place and he showed me silly videos that made me laugh, which hurts.


I slept in my bed Saturday and Sunday night and I’m feeling pretty good.

So, that is the tale of surgery. Hopefully the gas and constipation will go away super soon so I can see if my issue is resolved! The surgeon said “no wonder she was in so much pain!” upon seeing my gallbladder, so that’s a good sign. He took photos of it, and it doesn’t look super healthy fo’ sho’. ┬áSo, keep your fingers crossed for me! For me to poo regularly very soon and that all is resolved. Please and thank you.

Baby He’s Ready To Roar

Today is my last full day with a gallbladder!!

It’s so weird and awesome that they can remove an organ and send you home in the same day. So weird but also so awesome.

I’m a bit nervous but also ready.

And that’s that!

Now, in light of the news today, here’s what I find to be an appropriate song. If we’re gonna all be exploded we might as well dance.


I met with the surgeon yesterday and I am getting this gallbladder of mine removed next Wednesday! Eeep. And, also, yay!

As I was giving him the history and answering his questions one phrase kept coming up: “I just dealt with it.” Because that’s just kind of what I do until I either cannot deal with it any longer or it becomes super clear that I shouldn’t.

“So you were eating tacos, felt like you were having a heart attack and you just…..kept eating the tacos?”

Me, smiling, “YOLO!” to which his assistant giggled.

I gave him my medical/surgical history and, apparently, even though I have never considered my fibroid removal to be a real surgery it was. So, I’ve been through surgery before and that should help calm me down. Except it’s not. But, again, he asked “what symptoms did you have with the fibroid” and I was all “oh, you know, super heavy bleeding for up to 11 days until I was anemic. But I just dealt with that for a while…”

So when he tells me “I like to tell people that recovery takes one to two weeks but I’ve known some to be back up in one to two days…” and I was all “Oh, I’m shooting for the one to two days thing!” he smiled and said “Of course you are.”

So, I like my surgeon. He put me at ease, he talked to me, he gave me ample time to ask questions and he answered them thoughtfully, and he offered to give me something to calm me down the day of if I really felt that was necessary but I declined. Knowing that is an option is sometimes enough and, if I’m too amped up the day of, I can take a Xanax (with his permission, of course) or I can ask for something once I’m all checked in.

I’m a little nervous about recovery and being on my own and all of that but I’ll just stock up on the proper foods and make sure I have books and Netflix/Amazon/Hulu binges at the ready and plenty of space for naps. I wish I could prepare my little dogs so I don’t have to worry about their needs but that’s not a thing. Dogs don’t get it. And I’m sure my boyfriend will be helpful so I should likely just stop fretting.

The other good news is that I was finally able to eat my delish birthday Mexican lunch from Saturday. The whole thing. Without even a hint of an issue. Because my gallbladder is random as fuck.

Soon I shall be able to talk about hikes and walks and going to the gym and eating healthy and all of the things! So soon!