I GET TO KEEP MY GALLBLADDER!
I just really didn't want to "have it removed" (I hate that phrase - it makes it seem so - simple! ) . So the cute doc looked at me with those amazing blue eyes of his, perched a tiny hand on his chin and squinted: "How are you doing?" His concern was apparent. The waiting room was filled with wrinkly old people with various limbs and organs ready to de-plant themselves - so my newish, mostly functioning, chubby body was probably a nice change of pace. Or so I'd like to think.
Unfortunately, he didn't get to second base trying to "feel" my gallbladder - just sat on his stool like a good little MD and rubbed his chin.
Which is fine - but c'mon - the only time a married chick can get some non-betrothed action is during a doctor's visit! It's like dating all over again without the intricate choosing of the pretty panties and matching lacy barely-cover-the-nipple bra or the agony of trying to eat pasta and NOT dropping any down the front of one's shirt to nestle in the cup of aforementioned lacy garment!
Where was I?
Oh - yeah - so as long as I eat low-fat, low-spice, and low -taste - I'm fine and there's a good chance that my precious organ will get neither worse nor better! Unfortunately - should it decide to revolt and leave me like an upturned turtle - stuck in the middle of my bed - again - I have to immediately call my Doc and say - "Hey - wanna round Second?"
I have to call him and schedule a time to have it removed should the pain return. Am thinking of asking if they have a "Buy one, Get one" special - maybe I can get a tummy tuck, too!
UPDATE: Only bad thing about my Doc's visit (well - if you don't count the lack of over-the-shirt action) is that my room was right next to the bathroom and - it wasn't very soundproof. EW.