five things | the diary of the missing gallbladder


a couple of weeks ago, i remember informing joe that i needed a weekend away or a day or two off. well, having surgery and staying in the hospital wasn't exactly the break that i had in mind.

1. hospital room service is very poor. their sodium-free chicken broth is fucking dreadful and they refuse to budge when you tell them that you want organic irish butter and not that margarine crap. also, they don't have kale smoothies on the menu, only apple juice from concentrate. fuck. that. noise. that stuff will kill you faster than an inflamed and infected gallbladder and pancreas will.

2. if you're bored and in need of some good people watching or even just a little personal boost, the closest NYC emergency room is the place to find it. when i first got to the ER on saturday night, i was asked to wait in a little holding cell of the most uncomfortable chairs ever while they took care of more urgent matters. (don't they know that me basically dying is kind of urgent?) i just wasn't aware of how lucky i was. i got the opportunity to sit next to a hand-cuffed criminal who was being under constant supervision of two lady-cops. i was stared down for a solid seven very awkward minutes by an older gentleman who was missing his two big toes and having blood drawn. his toe situation utterly fascinated me so i used that opportunity to take the 'just keep looking down' approach. i also got to try to explain what was wrong with me to an overly chatty spanish woman who was on holiday from barcelona. she didn't speak any english. she only kept repeating, 'no... what's wrong?' 'no ingl├ęs?' no, you annoying broad. i don't speak spanish. stop talking to me. can't you see that i'm in need of morphine?

3. morphine? it's awesome. i think i saw little gnome-like men running around me on puffy pink cotton candy clouds. normally, i'd classify anything involving gnomes a bad trip, but these little guys were my friends. they made me feel glorious.

4. i may or may not have brought my hospital gown home to wear for joe. that thing is far too s-e-x-y to let it go to waste!

5. i have to give up dairy. and bacon. and anything else that's considered fatty. but on the list of fatty foods that matter, cheese and bacon make up two of my primary food groups. (the third is wine, in case you were wondering.) more than the scars, more than the unbelievable gas pains from all of the carbon dioxide that they pumped my stomach full of, and even more than the inability to walk standing up straight, the absence of cheese and bacon is going to be a big blow to my general quality of life. i mean, what the hell am i supposed to eat?

**also, i did a little guest post on stroller naps in case you're interested in reading. happy friday, y'all.



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