It's been a while since I've posted a new blog and I'm sorry about that, but I do have things to share. Some things I have shared that many people would prefer I didn't, but that brings me to today's rant.
As many of you probably already know about me, me and my digestive system have a long and troubled history. Being the overly stressed psycho that I am, I began developing ulcers and other random stomach issues way back in elementary school. I thought, that by this time in my life, I had pretty much learned to manage all the crazy symptoms my body would share with me, but I had forgotten about one family curse that was still hunting me down. You see, each time I would go to the doctor with a stomach pain complaint, the first question I would be asked was, "Have you ever had your gallbladder checked?" Now, to most of you reading this that may seem like an ordinary question, but to me and the other Andrades out there, that's a fully loaded question because that is the curse that comes with being an Andrade. Someday, somehow, when you least expect it some little sac of green fluid in your belly, which is completely useless I might add, is going to come back and bite you. So, each time I was asked the dreaded gallbladder question, I cringed hoping that I would be the one to dodge the Andrade curse (for those keeping track at home, of the 10 Andrades in my immediate family, I believe only 3 of us still have our gallbladders and the only other two, besides myself, are my younger cousins Mark and Alex (keep alert, boys, the clock is ticking!)
Why do I bring on this rant now? Well, it appears that something in my digestive system has decided that it does not appreciate sharing its space with my new tenant and, as my tenant has relocated many of the other long term residents of Digestive Arms (that's what I'm calling the huge tract of land (please note the Monty Python reference) that the little man (or woman) has taken over), I believe those residents are teed off and are protesting outside of City Hall. While my issues are on the left side of my body and not at all the correct location for my gallbladder, my doctor has informed me that my gallbladder may be the medical equivalent of a ventriloquist throwing its bile around different areas of my body to throw off investigators. If it could only use its powers for good!!! So, it's either my gallbladder, my pancreas (which could be in kahoots with my gallbladder - those bastards), or my liver. While I can understand why my liver and pancreas would have wanted to start a revolution against me while I was in college, at this point in my life, they are living large and have nothing to beef about other than being relocated temporarily. So, I essentially have to wait and see what my docs have to say about my pissed off body and hopefully they can steer me back to the light.
Now, I realize many of you may be saying, "Geez, Jen. That's a little melodramatic, isn't it?" To that I reply, NO!! It is NOT melodramatic and let me tell you why. Every time I eat, I get, what I affectionately refer to as, Pitchfork Man, working his magic in my gut which is making eating a highly unpleasant prospect for me. That, in and of itself, is a tragedy for me. But what makes it infinitely worse at this point in time is that this is FAIR SEASON!!! Which means that all of the wonderful fairs and food festivals are about to kick off and HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO ENJOY FAIR SEASON IF I CAN'T EAT TONS OF FRIED CRAP AND OTHER STUFF THAT IS ABSOLUTELY NO GOOD FOR ME?!?!?!?!!? OH THE AGONY OF IT ALL!!!!! I swear that as soon as this kid is born, he/she is in for a time out RIGHT OUT OF THE GATE!!!
Oh, and for those of you who may be wondering what the title of this entry refers to, it is generally the rule of thumb used by medical and lay people alike to diagnose a gallbladder issue...forty, fat, and - the thing some of you wish I would stop sharing - ...I'll leave that one to your imaginations*.
*Be grateful this post is not brought to you in smell-o-vision. (smell-o-vision? is that possible?)
Add another to the list of the curse. I too have stomach problems and had my ulcer removed at 20. And now my ulcer problems are back, I get the damn pains every night, but I won't take the meds cause I'm pregnant (not to mention that the doc told me I'll have to deal with it until baby is born and I'm done breastfeedingg) Whoopee! lol. And it looks like Sammy is now dealing with her share of stomach issues. Next time you're in town, let's get together for a little belly pow-wow.
ReplyDeleteJen: Another "sans" gallbladder cousin putting her 2 cents in. I was 28 and Kelly was a year old when I started going to the doctor with extreme pains in my abdomen. I got the "you're just stressed because you're going back to work and leaving your baby" talk from my doctor and put on a low-fat, low caffeine diet. Of course that worked for awhile because we know what those foods/drinks do to someone with gallbladder issues. Two and a half-years, several doctor's visits and many excrutiatingly painful attacks later the same doctor told me that I didn't fit the profile of "forty, fat, and ...." but he was sending me for tests to check out my gallbladder. I was soon having a visit with a surgeon who told me I could schedule the surgery right then and there or take a chance and end up in emergency surgery! By the way, did they tell you that pregnancy exacerbates gallbladder problems? Imagine that, even before they're born our children are causing us pain, oy vay!??
ReplyDeleteAnyway, thoroughly enjoying your blog and thank you for sharing the first baby picture. Can't wait to read!