It’s been a little over three months since I had my gallbladder removed.
I keep trying to find the right words to describe the difference between now and before. I can’t find them. Or, I can’t find them well.
My abdomen feels better. My circulation (maybe?) feel better. I’m not sluggish and sad like I was. But…
I still don’t really understand what’s going to make me sick.
It seems like it would be easy to say “stick with fruits, veggies and lean meats.” And it is. Except onions hurt. And apples. And sometimes kiwis but not always. And honestly, sometimes I just really want to eat some goldfish crackers. Or a bagel. Or some coffee.
So I eat them. And pay for it for a few days.
Some days, I bloat enough to be two sizes larger than usual.
Some days, the idea of figuring something out to eat is too complicated so I just don’t.
Other days, I’m floored with the idea that my body has lost two organs (gallbladder and appendix) and still functions!
What modern medical marvel! What incredible feat of human evolution and engineering! How lucky am I to have a body at all!
Other days, I realize it’s been four days since I last got sick or put on jeans that didn’t fit.
Other days, I find a way to stay centered on gratitude for what I have, rather than what I lost.
If you’re getting ready for this to be done, or if you just had it done: it’s just like everything else in life. It’s what you make it. It’s differently complicated. It will make you re-examine your relationship with your body on a regular basis and nobody will really understand what you’ve felt or are feeling except other people who did this.
It will be fine, if you can find the good in it. If you can keep yourself from getting bogged down by all the not-fine of it. And eventually, your life will level out again and you’ll get used to the four little scars on your belly.
You may even grow to like them, because they mean feeling so much better.