Last night, I found myself in a great deal of distress. My tummy felt like the Texas Chainsaw Massacre was being acted out within it. I prepared to sleep downstairs in the big chair or on the couch, propped up by pillows. Except that I couldn't find any position that made it feel better. And it was getting worse.
In the end, I wound up going to the ER about 12:30 a.m. I could hardly stay still while they checked me in, it hurt so much. I have a very high tolerance for pain, but I was in agony. They shot me full of happy juice, and the pain subsided from about a 9 to a very stoned 2 or 3. They did a CAT scan on me after a while and determined that my gall bladder had a stone within that was trying to escape to a wider world, and it all needed to come out. They gave me my choice of being admitted to the hospital immediately or seeing if I could tough it out for a while to set up a surgery at my convenience. I opted for the latter.
I'm blowing today off while Deanne goes to the pharmacy for yet more drugs. I have an appointment with the surgeon next week to set something up.