I went to the doctor to get my stomach checked out today. Not my beloved normal doctor - it takes weeks to get an appointment with her. Instead, I went to the doctors at the shopping centre who I normally bother when I have trifling things to deal with.
So I walked in, waited the required 15 minutes, saw the lovely doctor and told her of my woes. Said outright I reckoned this was something to do with my gall bladder - and she readily agreed.
I should say that having your gall bladder out is a rite of passage in my family. Most of us when we hit around 50 get these problems. Mum still has hers, but she has to be careful. Me, I've known this has been brewing for years - and I avoid cheese, red wine and really fatty foods for the most part, or suffer with the sweats, palpitations and stomach pains. It's been like that for years.
After prodding and poking my stomach for a bit she passed me some papers. Blood tests to be done immediately. She arranged an ultrasound for later in the day. She also gave me a sick certificate for the day - not that I used it, but it was nice to have. Another thing she said - if the excruciating pain comes back I'm to go straight to a hospital. Fun. I hope this doesn't happen.
The bloods were interesting. My veins are shy at the best of times and the nice phlebotanist stuck me a couple of times before I confessed I'd had next to nothing to drink, not expecting to have to come and get a blood test. I was told to go home, drink a litre of water and come back in an hour. If he could get the blood draw done, I'd make the 12.30 courier and my results would be in for tomorrow, when I'm seeing another doctor t get the results.
On going back, my veins were no more forthcoming. The nice phlebotanist said that he was going for one last draw before he would have to send me elsewhere. He finally found a vein. In my hand. It freaking hurt. But at least the tests were done and I didn't have to find another vampire around Richmond. Needless to say, the crooks of my arms look like those of a junkie.
I went back to work, grumpy due to the belly ache, made narkier by the fact I had to fast until 4 pm when the ultrasound was scheduled.
I shut down my work computer at 3.30, drove to the ultrasound place and waited my turn. Another round of prodding and poking, again, an uncomfortable experience, but at least needles were not involved. I chatted with the girl who was waving the gel-covered wand about.
"I think they think I have gallstones."
"You do have gallstones," she told me.
Great.
I got home, had a quick shower, put on some makeup and went out for dinner and a play.
And I told Jay about all of this.
"You know the person doing the ultrasound isn't supposed to diagnose you."Jay is a G.P. She's also a stickler for the rules.
"I could recognise the bloody things. They were very clear on the telly screen in front of me. Your tummy should have what looks like a bag of marbles sitting above your liver. "
"You have a point."
So where to next? Back to the doctor tomorrow to get the results. And from there, we will see. It's more than likely I'm going to have this erroneous organ taken out. Blah. Keyhole surgery. A week off. Blah.
On the good side of things:
- The 9/10 pain I felt the other night has stopped, I'm just uncomfortable and can't lie on my stomach
- I'm in otherwise very good health.
- I've lost 5 kgs since the start of the year
- Starting early with the anti-spasmodics (buscopan) is keeping the pain levels down
- I've had a quiet week at work (even if little got done)
- Other than the doctors appointment, everything else has been bulk billed
- And I'm grateful for Medicare - because they do look after you when needed.
I'll get a way forward tomorrow when all the test results are in.
Wish me luck.
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