The Gallbladder

The Gallbladder.



Ok, here are the facts from wikipedia on your gallbladder, as paraphrased by me:

• It's 10-12 cm long,


• It's green due to it's bile content,


• It's located near your liver,


• It has a "duct",


• It injects the bile into your duodenum when you eat something fatty,


• The bile helps digest the fat.

Here's what wikipedia _doesn't_ tell you about the gallbladder: IT WILL KICK YOUR GODDAMN ASS.

Not kidding. I know this first hand. I had a bit of Gastroenteritis going. Which, in my case, means that my colon had decided to do an impression of a tributary flowing out of Newark, NJ after a 20" downpour in the middle of August. The entire cast of the Sopranos came flying out. At least we know what happened to them following the blackout at the end of the series finale.

As a result of my illness, I hadn't eaten for a few days. Feeling a little better for the moment, I tried to get a few bites of chicken noodle soup down in order to prevent myself from looking like one of the Olsen twins, slouching around in an anorexic haze in a made for TV after school schlock flick.

That's when it attacked me. I wasn't aware that the gallbladder could attack. Like a small green rotting prune with rabies, it came for me after my third bite, foamy bile spraying out of its duct. In the next minute, I was on floor in a fetal position trying to pull out the six foot long glowing hot iron spear that some mystery person had just shoved through me.

I'm not sure what part of me it was attacking, but it hurt like hell. The little bastard probably got right through the duodenum, chewed up a bit of liver and then went sick-house on my pancreas. This went on for the better part on an hour which ended up getting me a ride to the emergency room. As quickly as it started, it stopped. I don't know if it passed something, or if it ran out of steam or just got tired of being angry at the soup. Either way, it was the best not-feeling I've ever had.

In the ER, Doctor "I'm not sure what's going on here" performed an ultra-sound scan and concluded that I had a stone. This was a very expensive test that I'm sure won't be paid for by my insurance. This was immediately refuted by a technician who assured me that there was nothing in there other than an angry gallbladder, after using an even bigger and more expensive machine that won't be covered by my insurance either. Dr. Inswgoh (think about it) was, at this point, not sure if he was going to recommend, or not, to have my gallbladder removed, or maybe just left alone. I told them to think about it and left, thanking the nice emt guy on the way out who missed my vein like six times while trying to install the IV that I didn't need and will be paying for as a result of my insurance eventually not paying. The reason I brought that up is due to the fact than my veins are approximately the size of the lincoln tunnel and missing them requires the skills of an untrained, thumbless leper with cataracts. I pointed this out to emt guy and additionally thanked him for my growing hematoma.

The upside of this whole experience is, well, nothing. I still have my gallbladder. I can feel it in there, a little green green bag of bile filled hate, waiting to go for round two with my digestive tract. Waiting.