Another misson call...another bittersweet goodbye.

Well my youngest brother Westin has officially been called to serve for the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints. He will be serving the Roseville California mission. It is the mission that is directly next to just east of Casey's mission which was Santa Rosa California. They are both pretty excited about both being Nor Cal servers.

I am so excited for him yet so sad to have to say goodbye to another missionary. It really is not easy. Plus Wes and I are so close that its going to be very odd with him gone. I guess I can just keep busy with my life and wait for time to pass.

What to do with my time?

It's almost the new year and I guess I best be setting my goals.

Until next time.

Bye

cut....gut......and smile!

So for Christmas this year rather than asking for the usual cliche gifts such as my two front teeth (already have those) or a pony (they poop too much) I guess I will just have to settle with a good ol' run of the mill gallbladder-ectomy; if that is even a real word. YES! Gallbladder was removed. I am waiting to see if anything magical happens, however so far between the Percocet fog and swirly twirly's (nausea) and some random gnarly itching on my belly around my cuts and sterri-strips, nothing too fantabulous has occurred. I was sort of counting on some elaborate mind trip while out for the procedure, so when I awoke I would have this super amazing novel to write and become super rich and get to hang out with cool people like J.K. Rowling.

Well my Gallbladder removal was nothing other than a standerd run of the mill same day surgery. I did have a bit of a mind trip coming out of the anesthesia which was surreal like I was in my own movie. If this was my own movie I imagine I would be a tad more glamorous, but it is what it is and this is my story.

The day is Tuesday the 18th 2012 and I am sitting in the Coral Desert Surgery Center at 6am. Filling out paper work and pretty much signing my life away.

 After that I am walked back through the double doors, after some quick goodbyes to my parents and a hug to my younger brother like I was going away to my death. The nurse handed me the most glamorous gown which I highly doubt is even out in the nicest stores for celebrities like Beyonce to buy; nope this gown was for my shining moment. I slipped into the cold and clean bathroom ( you know I really do appreciate a clean bathroom , it can make or break my day) and began to stuff my belongings into the patient plastic baggy and I waltzed out to the hospital bed and hopped on.

The nurse covered me with a blanket that had the softness of an old crusty towel. She then began to tie off my arm to begin my IV. She looked into my forearm and asked me if I brought my veins with me today. I assured her they were in there somewhere. The nurse then flipped my hand over and began to firmly smack the back side of my hand a few times. In my mind I was praying this was some snake charmer like technique to inform my veins to bulge out in my inner arm and not some crazy idea like putting the IV in my hand. I was wrong. She was no snake charmer. It went in the hand. The IV was set and shockingly I didn't bust out in tears. I just chose to reject my left hand for the rest of our time in the surgery clinic, not only would I not pay it enough attention to move it to comfort I would not look at it for the rest of my adventure here. This may sound odd but its common for me, I neglect paying attention to any part of my body with a needle poked into it, mostly because my super advanced mind (umm more like over active imagination) takes over and leads me to believe a GIANT hose is plunging into my flesh and is sucking my very will to live. It grosses me out. Soul suckers!

The nurse told me I could see my family while I wait so she went out to get them. It was only my dad at the moment, Mom and brother had escaped to make a McDonalds breakfast run. Jerks. I talked with my dad by my side for a bit, then shortly my mom and brother arrived. We chatted for a bit then the anesthesiologist came and said he was going to give me some "happy juice". I asked him if this was the stuff that will knock me out to which he replied, "No, it just makes you a little calmer for the whole experience". I lay there after he sent the invisible magic liquid into my IV. My mom asked me if I felt anything and I said, kinda smug, Nope! Seconds later it hit. I was staring up at the ceiling saying "Woah there it is" and telling my Mom that they were moving. "No!" she said, "your moving" and they began to wheel me away. I had just enough consciousness to say goodbye and it went dark.

From the moment I got my happy juice until the time I got home later in the day, my experiences of coming out of the anesthesia were much like the movie Knight and Day. The part where Cameron Diaz is drugged by Tom Cruise with Pro-ton Zero or whatever, and it shows her coming in and out of it for quick moments, every time in a different place and then fading back out. Sound is muffled, vision blurred, alts the while drooling on oneself. Just kidding about the drooling part.

I had a little flash of memory of my arms being strapped down. These little arms pulled out from the side of my bed to strap my arms too. I remember feeling so chill and comfortable. I was happy.

 The next thing I know I am waking up crying. My eyes are too heavy to keep open and everything is blurry and muffled sounding. I am crying uncontrollably and asking the nurse to get my mom for me. She keeps telling me I need to calm down first. These words of coarse make me cry worse and I could hear my heart monitor start to beep radically. This happened a couple times. Turns out I decided to stop breathing a couple times, I think I was too drugged to remember how to. Nurses kept coming over to me telling me I need to breath. I then remember pulling my oxygen mask off a couple times convinced it was suffocating me. To which the nurses would put it back on and tell me I need to breath and calm down. I realized at this point no one would let me see my mommy until I chilled. So I began to focus on trying to breath in and out. I needed my mommy.

Blip

I am next being helped off my hospital bed and into a wheelchair.

Blip

I am in the bathroom and my Mom is helping me get dressed.

Blip

I am sitting slumped in my wheelchair in a room that is sort of darkened and my family is there. All of a sudden I am holding a little can of juice with a straw. One sip and I couldn't handle any more.

Blip

I am now being helped into my parents SUV. We begin to drive home I roll my window down praying I dont have to gag. We get home and my dad and brother slowly holding my arms walk me into the house and into my bed.

The following few hours I was more coming out of it and slightly aware, just really tired. My dad was sitting in the recliner in my room watching me, next it was my mom, and finally my little brother came in to be with me so my mom could take a nap. Long day.

Nobody left my side. It was really sweet. I later motated out to the couch which would be my base for the next couple of days. My brother, bless his heart, was there to wait on me hand and foot. Probably because I was killer awesome at taking care of him when he had his colon removed. He was paying his dues. Haha kidding, he is always so sweet to me. Anything I needed he made sure I had it. He helped me up and down and to and from the bathroom. He would follow behind me as I did two laps around the kitchen island (moms orders from the doctor) and if I were to fall he would be there. I would stop a couple times trying to sleep standing where I was, it was then he would take my arm and lead me back to the couch like I was a little senile lady looking for her cat that died 15 years ago.

On and on it goes.

I still have my sterri strips on and they itch like a beast. I feel better and today I finally put on a bra. I am still slightly nauseated when I get up and a little tender but am on Ibuprofen and not my "pain pills".

All in all Im glad its done and over with. I was really nervous about having surgery, since this was my first. Luckily this was minor. I didn't fancy how I felt for the first 2 days. I sat and cried constantly in pain the day I got home waiting for 2 hours to tick by in between taking my pain pills. I am glad to be past that. And now I know if I ever need surgery again, if they want me to breath with their gosh dang gas mask on, they best be bringing my Mommy into the room first.

**Update**

So it is now December 27th and its been about a week and a half since surgery. Two days ago in my sleep I rolled onto my side and felt a tearing sharp pain in my stomach. I checked my sutures and they weren't gushing blood so I figured I just stretched my inner wound a bit. Little while later I did it again. The next morning I woke up and was in pain almost like I was when I came home from the hospital. I called the surgeons office and was later informed that I have torn my inner sutures. It happens they told me and its nothing to be too concerned about. That just sets my healing back to almost square one. Bleh! I have been trying to do too much apparently thinking I am more healed than I really am. So now I am forced to lay down and do NOTHING. Ahhhh. Im just glad I dont have to be cut open again. Yay!

Thats the journey of my gallbladder.

My sweet friends Jessica and Tav sent me these flowers and fluffy little bear the day after my surgery. I was having a pretty rough day so it totally made me smile.