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I had my gallbladder removed last week. It was a drama in many acts.

ACT I: The Gallstones Are Born

She gave me a horrible digestive system. She herself has had gallstones, kidney stones, acid reflux, and any other gastro-related complication you can name. And she passed this mess on to me.

In 1992, I began my first post-college job as an activity director at a nursing home. I loved my job, but I was very nervous about doing it well. All of the responsibilities I had scared me, and I took it out on my stomach. I wouldn't ever talk about how stressed I was; I'd just hold it all in and suffer silently and--I thought--bravely.

I began waking up very early in the morning with crippling stomach pain. The pain was always in the same place--upper middle, about 3 inches above my belly button. The only thing that made it better was chugging Maalox and waiting for it to subside. It usually took about 10 minutes, but those ten minutes would seem like hours as I chanted to myself, "Ow ow. Ow ow. Ow ow."

I noticed that this pain usually came the morning after I had been stressing on something major.

I didn't do anything about it, and it continued to happen on and off until 1996, when I started teaching.

ACT II: The Monster Grows

Andy was less tolerant of my stomach pains than I was, and soon enough I had my first visit to a gastroenterologist. The doctor suggested that I have an endoscopy to find out what was going on in my nether regions, and he eventually came up with a diagnosis of gallstones and acid reflux. He gave me some Prilosec, and I took it faithfully until a few months ago, when I went off it in a quest to handle my digestion on my own.

Now of course there are some diet modifications I was told to make that I didn't. When one suffers from internal distress as I do, one should not partake of the #3 at Burger King, the #3 at McDonald's, the #7 at Wendy's or the fettuccini alfredo at Barnelli's.

"Stay away from chocolate..." my Indian gastroenterologist told me during one refill-my-drugs visit. "I know you women like your chocolate. Oooh-hoo-hooo-hooo..." he laughed swarthily. Uh, yeah.

I didn't make these modifications, I didn't lose weight, and I know I deserve all the pain I have because I have been unwilling to change the way I live.

But maybe things are changing...

Act III: Attack! Attack!

On Monday, September 11, I began to feel some pain in my chest and back. It felt kind of like heart attack pain is supposed to feel--sharp pains, hurt more when I breathed in deeply, went down my arm and up to my neck and all along my back. But this pain was all on my right side, and it had an epicenter over to the right of my stomach. I ignored it all day and went about my business, but as we were getting ready for bed I started to whine and snivel a little bit. I couldn't get comfortable in bed because the pain intensified when I lay down. I ended up sitting up in my desk chair all night, leaning on my desk and watching bad TV and surfing the web endlessly.

The next morning I called my doctor (to be known as "Dr. Al") to try and get an appointment for that day. Andy and I were new patients, but we had just seen her a few weeks ago for physicals. The receptionist told me to come in whenever I could and they'd fit me in, which I thought was very nice.

As soon as the nurse taking my vitals heard my symptoms, she said, "Oh, it sounds like your gallbladder needs to come out." I was shocked... I knew I had the gallstone issues, but I had no idea the pain could manifest itself like this. The symptoms I had were far removed from the usual "Ow ow" pain I was familiar with.

Dr. Al came in and we discussed my symptoms and my history.

"I have gallstones," I told her.

"Yes, but they aren't what's affecting you right now. We need to do some tests."

Off I went to the hospital next door for an ultrasound and chest x-rays. When I was done, I was told to have a seat and someone would get the results to me. I sat for about five minutes when I was summoned to the phone. It was a nurse from Dr. Al's office.

"Hi Amy. We have your results and they're all negative. You have gallstones, but your gallbladder isn't inflamed."

"Oh. So...what should I do?"

"Well...I don't know."

"How about if I just come back up to the office and I can talk to Dr. Al?"

"Yeah, why don't you do that?"

The nurse came running out to meet us in the waiting room, waving a piece of paper at me.

"Dr. Al wants you to go to [another office in another city] to have blood tests." She handed me the orders with a bunch of different tests checked off.

"Why?"

Again, the nurse was stumped. Suddenly, I saw Dr. Al over the nurse's shoulder, lurking in her office, looking at me.

"Hi," Dr. Al called. "Go have the blood tests and why don't you go back on your Prilosec, too?"

"What?" I didn't want to go back on my Prilosec, and I wanted to tell her why, but she wasn't moving forward to talk to me.

"Just start back on them."

OK, whatever. I went and had blood drawn, then returned home and called Dr. Al's office.

"Oh, Dr. Al makes her patient calls between 5 and 6 p.m. You'll hear from her then." It was 3:30.

At 5:55, I finally decided to call back. I was starting to feel like a nag, but I was still in terrible pain and the thought of another night propped up at my desk was scaring me. I wanted some answers, or at least a plan of action.

She wasn't there. None of them were. At 5:55, the office had "gone home for the day", according to the answering service.

Act IV: Night Falls

Before too long Dr. Al's partner, Dr. G., called us. It wasn't Dr. Al's night to be on duty, so we had to explain my case to him. After listening to both of us describe my pain, he finally told me, "Take some ibuprofen." Well, that's what I've been doing. "Take a stronger dose." OK. Thanks.

At 3:00 a.m. I watched the Shirley Temple movie about the hotel for ex-vaudeville performers. At 6:30 a.m. I heard Andy's alarm go off and when I crawled into the vacated bed, I was finally able to fall asleep.

Act V: Day Three, Still Gulping Ibuprofen

"Please ask Dr. Al to call me as soon as she gets in. I had tests done yesterday and haven't talked to her about what we're going to do next and I am in a great deal of pain." The answering service lady told me that Dr. Al would get the message when the office opened at 9.

9:00 passes. 10:00 passes. 11:00 passes. I am over my fear of being a pest and I am pissed off. I called Dr. Al's office.

"This is Amy Lester and I left a message this morning..."

The receptionist cut me off before I could get any further.

"Yeah, no one is in today."

"What do you mean?" I asked slowly.

"No one's in. No doctors. No nurses. Nothing. Just me."

"Did you get my message this morning?"

"Yeah, but there was no one here to call you back."

Like, oh, I don't know...YOU? I hung up and started sobbing. Then I called my mom, the woman who predisposed me to having these gallstones to begin with.

To Be Continued...