(12 Sept 2012)
Yesterday I ate cheese…blue cheese…a small piece and an oreo cookie.
This proves my pain memory is less than a month long.
I thought there was a small chance of it being okay – I used this argument to myself stood in front of the cheese section in the co-op. “
I have no gallstones” I told myself… “that’s good” I replied “becuase I’ve really missed cheese and am going without dairy products apart from a bit of zero fat plain yoghurt that I don’t much like anyway”
I nodded…studying the fat levels of various cheeses.
“it would be a shame to suffer from brittle bones because I’m afraid of eating a little bit of cheese” I continued.
I bought some bleu d’Auvergne and to offset my saturated fat intake stuck some quinoa in my basket too… and some brown rice…. and some tinned kidney beans for good luck.
I know I shouldn’t listen to myself in moments of cheesey weakness… but my god it was good. I crumbled it sparsely on a wedgeof mediterranean bloomer (ignoring my suspected wheat intolerence….after all its only suspected by me).
I didn’t use any butter.
It was possibly the most gratifying sensory experience i’ve ever had….no…no thats not fair…. but it really was good.
I decided as I don’t have gallstones and as I’m becoming neurotic around food I’ll just eat healthily, sensibly… so slipped an orea cookie in my pocket when I wasn’t looking and made a quorn chilli to make the brown rice feel loved and wanted.
Hmmm…at bedtime I felt a bit strange…. a sort of painful sensation…. so I quietly (being in a house full of people happy to tell me ‘I told you so’) drugged myself up with left over medicines from Ipswich A&E and went to bed.
Two in the morning I decided more co-codomol would be a good idea if i could get out of bed.
Six o clock I got out of bed…. went all funny and buzzy and cold and sweaty and the darkness started coming in from the sides….so I crawled back to bed and laid there shouting help for a bit.
The boy and Jane arrived simultaneously…a sick bucket followed (not needed) and I think at that stage I was expressing my pain levels via the art of mime whilst concentrating on breathing.
Jane rang an ambulance again, told them it was a gallbladder attack and they started relaying questions about my pain.
Being in another room… now the bathroom… it was hard for my mime act to be seen, the cold floor felt nice on my face and I mustered enough breath to shout ‘get off the fucking phone’.
I’ve now decided the emergency services are shit for gall bladder problems, especially hypothetical gall bladder problems… the pain was passing anyway and I’d much prefer to lie quietly on the floor than listen to Jane argue the toss with the ambulance service.
Anyway…. long story that I should have cut shorter as its a recurring theme…
I went and saw a different GP today…. I thought the swelling I can feel inside me, that feels a bit like a squash ball and three other doctors have decided was probably an inflamed gall bladder, might benefit from another medical poke and another doctor to write on my notes that its possibly my gall bladder – even without the stones.
But no.
Todays doctor told me your gallbladder can’t get swollen without stones (patients.co.uk disagrees with her and quotes 19 out of 20 cases are caused by stones.
I should go home and eat small sensible low fat meals… cheese should be ok in moderation…all things in moderation and keep it simple.
My bowels were probably struggling with my restricted diet… have some fybogel too.
I left feeling puzzled…
and a bit bewildered.
But with no desire to go home and eat a small sensible cheese salad sandwich at all.
