Wednesday, January 5, 2011

Hi Ho, Hi Ho, it's off to Surgery I go...

Today's the day I say goodbye to my gall bladder.

It's a body part I have spent my entire life paying scant little attention to.  Until recently, of course, when it has caused me a world of trouble.  Mine is full of stones, swollen and tender, so out it comes.


As you read this I may even be unconscious, under the knife.

Wait, how can I blog while heavily sedated?

Through the magic of 3 AM insomnia-fueled writing and post scheduling, of course.  Because for the few days leading up to my surgery I am a whirling dervish of planning and prepping, trying to ensure my household, and most especially my children's lives, runs as smoothly as possible with me under the weather, out of the picture.

I have been assured that now that it's done laparoscopically, a gall bladder removal (officially called a "cholecystectomy") is a cake walk, a big fat nothing of a surgery.

But still, for me?  Who has only ever been a hospital patient for my childrens' birth via c-section?  It's a big deal.

Last time I had surgery it was to gain something, to become something more, greater.  I had children, I became a Mom.

This time it is to lose a piece of me that I came into this world with, an internal organ, nestled up close to my heart.  On the right side instead of left, but still, it's one of those "vital organs" smack dab in the middle of my body and mightily protected by my bony rib cage.  I will walk out of the hospital lesser, lighter, without a part of me, incomplete.

And I know I am taking this a bit seriously, a bit metaphorically, but it also rings true.  I am likely to spend a small amount of time in mourning for my gall bladder, oh, tiny organ of ill repute.

It's just one of those organs with funny names (I mean "gall bladder"? Really?)  No non-medically oriented person knows what the heck it does, until it stops doing its job properly.  Then you know.  Oh boy, do you know.

I will, of course, not dwell too long upon my loss because life will barely be paused, giving me little time for rumination.  My children will still need to be woken up, fed, clothed, cleansed, organized,  shuttled to and from school, played with and play-dated, homework-supervised, kissed and put to bed.

And though the physical side of these tasks will be fobbed off to others for a few days while my body recovers the assault inflicted upon it, my expertise will still be constantly called upon.  I am the one who is large and in charge in our house, the general in command of all things child.

And while Ethan does not like what is happening to his mom, he understands it, will go along with the program: demand less, help more, gentle his physical love for me.

Jacob on the other hand, thanks to autism, is likely to be confused, feel terribly rejected by his mother's arms length embraces.  My unavailability will weigh heavily upon him, I who am nearly always the one who is there with and for him, every day in every way.

I will try to throw up a simple update sometime within a day of my surgery, but don't expect posts relevant to current events for about a week, post surgery.  I may end up surprising myself, but I wouldn't count on it.
I am guessing I will have precious little energy and focus for writing, so although I have prepared a few posts to pop up like this one, seeming fresh made, they are actually mostly pre-fab.  I don't want my blog space to remain blank for too long. 

And if I am deficient in my commenting on your blog and responding to comments on my own?  I'm sure you'll understand.

I will, likely, be sleeping, reading and attempting to move about tenderly.  Air hugging my children.  Running the ship from the sofa.

I will be doing my best imitation of a lox, more still than I have been in the eight and a half years since the boys popped out and my current hurricane life began.  I may even catch up on my sleep.  (One can always hope.)

Wish me luck!

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