So, I'm recovered enough to recount the sequence of events:

1. Friday, the 13th, I was going to go to bed at about 4:00 AM. Just as I was getting ready, I started having localized pain in my abdomen. I've had these feelings before, they last a couple hours, then go away (I knew the cause). This one, however, was different, and was sharp and throbbing.

2. I staved off the pain without painkillers for 3 hours, 'til I finally woke my parents up. Mum and I were shortly out the door and headed to the emergency room the next town over.

3. Arrived to a very quiet emergency room, and was quickly whisked to a room. Blood pressure taken, blood drawn (new to me), an IV, quick medical history and description of symptoms.

4. Was given a dose of Propofol, and was finally able to relax. Never been high before. Told my mother I was bi while under the influence. Amazingly, she wasn't phased in the slightest.

5. Doctor listened to my symptoms again. Nurse took me down the hall for an ultrasound. Wheeled back and given a dose of morphine.

6. Doctor returns, reports I have gallstones, that one is probably causing a blockage and the pain, and it would be a simple matter of removing my gallbladder. He goes to call our family doctor, who sends us up to the Missouri Baptist in the city. Mum's a bit suspicious as I am apparently getting the surgery done that day and not being rescheduled for a later date.

7. Ambulance picks me up. It's very odd, having people just cart you around on a stretcher to and fro from place to place. Hour ride and we arrive at MBMC.

8. I'm taken to a room, nurses come and go, asking questions, making sure I'm comfortable. I end up struggling with one of those bizarre hospital gowns, and finally get settled.

9. Orderly comes with another stretcher. Black guy named English, which I found awesome for some reason. Wheels me down to surgery.

10. I'm bumped up in the list, and this creates some confusion. It's finally understood that I am NOT getting an appendectomy like the other guy, but a laparoscopic-cholystectomy (I'm about 15 years younger than the average, hence the confusion).

11. I'm given a cocktail, wheeled into surgery, and everything goes black as soon as I get moved to the table. I fade in and out of consciousness after everything, finally waking up in a recovery room - fortunately, a private room.



Wee! So now my liver is missing its bestest pal, and I've got 4 small incisions on my bellah. Discharged the next day with little pain, though I have a lot of discomfort and weakness; yesterday I finally had enough strength and focus to lift a pencil to draw. Turns out the excessive pain was not just from a stone, but my gallbladder was also infected! Yay! I got a bottle of Vicodin, and antibiotics - 7 pills cost 80 friggin' dollars, what the hell.

Followup's Tuesday, hopefully everything is alright. Then it'll just come down to seeing how much all this is going to cost. Insurance is good, I just hope everything clears and I don't get screwed. ;_;