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to go to the urgent care clinic. I had to wear my pajama pants because I couldn’t stand to have real pants on my body. The nurses drew blood and did some tests, and before they could do an ultrasound, they had to give me morphine for the pain.</p><figure id="61aa"><img src="https://cdn-images-1.readmedium.com/v2/resize:fit:800/1*euxTDtQmCiOgZ1xh12v__g.jpeg"><figcaption>Me at Urgent Care, hopped up on morphine and taking ridiculous selfies in the dark. Photo by Author.</figcaption></figure><p id="7396">Three hours later, I was transported by ambulance to the hospital, and scheduled for an emergency cholecystectomy the next morning. I’m not dead, so I guess everything went well!</p><figure id="9d7a"><img src="https://cdn-images-1.readmedium.com/v2/resize:fit:800/1*2AP1PwETcXLRQgcx4L30Kw.jpeg"><figcaption>Sunset photo taken from my hospital bed the night after I had surgery. Surely a good omen! Photo by Author.</figcaption></figure><p id="1c1a">My gallbladder-busting meal was on Thursday night and my surgery was Saturday morning, and I ate nothing in between. By Saturday evening, I was getting pretty hangry.</p><p id="f625">The hospital really delivered.</p><figure id="7193"><img src="https://cdn-images-1.readmedium.com/v2/resize:fit:800/1*9yJrjpRld2Yes2VWukYZHg.jpeg"><figcaption>Cream of chicken soup, pudding, and weirdly, five different beverages. Photo by Author.</figcaption></figure><p id="2a5d">Fast forward two weeks — I’m feeling much better, though still recovering, but I feel so out of to

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uch with everything that’s been going on!</p><p id="f8b8">How was everyone’s Thanksgiving?</p><p id="2eaa">Did we all reach our writing goals for November?</p><p id="8b3d">What’s this new Friends of Medium stuff I’ve seen popping up here and there, and are you jumping on board (I just did after reading exactly two stories about it, lol. The near death experience apparently made me wanna grab life by the flappy gobblers! 😄)?</p><p id="afd5">I missed you all, and can’t wait to be feeling 100% again soon. But hey, I’m thankful to still be here!</p><div id="f683" class="link-block"> <a href="https://readmedium.com/read-or-die-publication-rules-c84757ff97e6"> <div> <div> <h2>Read or Die! — Publication Rules</h2> <div><h3>Updated August 2023 Guidelines</h3></div> <div><p>medium.com</p></div> </div> <div> <div style="background-image: url(https://miro.readmedium.com/v2/resize:fit:320/1*1cWjoYejSw_r2BAH3_p40A.png)"></div> </div> </div> </a> </div><figure id="d055"><img src="https://cdn-images-1.readmedium.com/v2/resize:fit:800/1*J_YAxB40gyWBOdLzlHa2RA.png"><figcaption>Image by Tori Hall Sudduth via Midjourney</figcaption></figure><h1 id="e21e">If you enjoy my articles and would like to support me, kindly consider leaving a tip. Your contribution, no matter the amount, is greatly appreciated. Thank you so much!</h1></article></body>

My Husband Tried to Kill Me with a Ribeye Steak

Just Kidding, it was my Gallbladder

Free for use image by Saritjokro on Pixabay

There is nothing this girl loves more than a home cooked meal, cooked by someone else. Specifically, my husband.

He is a total meat master (🤔…yep, I stand by it), and makes a wicked good steak that rivals any restaurant. So when he came home with some well marbled ribeyes a couple of weeks ago, I was expecting quite the feast.

And baby, did he deliver.

After dinner, we did what any loving, 50-something couple does…we took a nap. And about an hour later, I woke up suddenly with the worst stomach pain imaginable. I thought I might be having a heart attack.

Free for use image by Geralt on Pixabay.

As the evening progressed, the pain moved from the center of my stomach to my back, and I got chills. I was queasy and miserable, and there was absolutely no position I could sit, stand, or lie in that would alleviate the pain.

I suffered all night long.

The next morning, when I still wasn’t feeling better after a shower, I decided to go to the urgent care clinic. I had to wear my pajama pants because I couldn’t stand to have real pants on my body. The nurses drew blood and did some tests, and before they could do an ultrasound, they had to give me morphine for the pain.

Me at Urgent Care, hopped up on morphine and taking ridiculous selfies in the dark. Photo by Author.

Three hours later, I was transported by ambulance to the hospital, and scheduled for an emergency cholecystectomy the next morning. I’m not dead, so I guess everything went well!

Sunset photo taken from my hospital bed the night after I had surgery. Surely a good omen! Photo by Author.

My gallbladder-busting meal was on Thursday night and my surgery was Saturday morning, and I ate nothing in between. By Saturday evening, I was getting pretty hangry.

The hospital really delivered.

Cream of chicken soup, pudding, and weirdly, five different beverages. Photo by Author.

Fast forward two weeks — I’m feeling much better, though still recovering, but I feel so out of touch with everything that’s been going on!

How was everyone’s Thanksgiving?

Did we all reach our writing goals for November?

What’s this new Friends of Medium stuff I’ve seen popping up here and there, and are you jumping on board (I just did after reading exactly two stories about it, lol. The near death experience apparently made me wanna grab life by the flappy gobblers! 😄)?

I missed you all, and can’t wait to be feeling 100% again soon. But hey, I’m thankful to still be here!

Read or Die! — Publication Rules

Updated August 2023 Guidelines

medium.com

Image by Tori Hall Sudduth via Midjourney

If you enjoy my articles and would like to support me, kindly consider leaving a tip. Your contribution, no matter the amount, is greatly appreciated. Thank you so much!