Eviction Notice: Stabby McStoneful

Bright and early tomorrow morning, I will be liberated from the wretched gallbladder that has held me hostage under its reign of terror - and indigestion - for the last month or so: Stabby McStoneful. I've named her (yes, her) Stabby McStoneful for two reasons:

• Anything capable of causing so much pain deserves a name. Witness Exhibits A & B, also known as El and Em. I love my children with a deep and abiding passion that will never fade, but expelling them from my insides was no walk in the park. Unless you're into walks in the park that cause you to feel like a demon is trying to fight its way out of your belly, in which case gallbladder attacks and childbirth are total walks in the park. Tangentially related, you may need a check-up from the neck-up. Just sayin'.
• A gallbladder attack feels like you're being stabbed with a hot poker. Actually, skewered is a better word, but Stabby is a cuter sounding name. And even though I've only had one full-blown attack, she's been agitated enough to jab me a few times a day just to let me know she's still there, and she's still angry. 

  

  Adoring Public, meet Stabby.
  She's just a breath of fresh air, isn't she?

I'll have to confess, the last few days I've been less than pleasant to live with. In fact, I've taken on many elements of Stabby's personality - tense, angry, and, well, stabby. As much as I'm ready to be done with this whole gallbladder business, my anxiety has been through the roof as I contemplate all the risks that go along with surgery.

But today my church family put me at ease. After Mass, I was called to the front of sanctuary, where I was surrounded by Miracle Man, El, Em, Sister, Father, and the rest of the congregation. There was anointing, and laying on of hands, and I can tell you, I could feel the positive energy flowing through the hands that touched me. It was amazing how calm and serene I felt walking out of church with my brand-new prayer shawl wrapped around my shoulders.

I've been physically ready to get rid of Stabby for some time. Now I'm mentally, emotionally, and spiritually ready to face my surgeon. I am in God's hands, and I trust in Him to give me the best possible outcome. This time tomorrow I should be sleeping in my own bed (yay, outpatient laparoscopy!), free at last from the Reign of Stabby.


Like this, only with less jumping
and more staring at the wall and drooling
from the pink elephant drugs