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Even Lindsay Lohan Is Better Than Me (Otherwise Known As Adventures in Organ Removal)

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I’ve had many a low point in my life, but 2014 may have just kicked off with the lowest yet.

On January 2, 2014, I learned that Lindsay Lohan is better than I am.

That’s right.

I can’t even bring myself up to Lindsay’s level of competence.

Better than me.  Sad but true.

Better than me. Sad but true.

Wow.

I had no idea things had gotten so bad.

It all began the prior Sunday.  As I’ve let slip, I’m training for a marathon.  After a week of holiday gluttony (champagne, cheese, cake, lather, rinse, repeat), I had to pay the piper and slog through a 15 mile run.  I was unusually thirsty during that run, but I just chalked it up to too much boozing.

All your fault.

All your fault.

I guzzled liters of water and Gatorade, but I just could not quench my thirst.  Over the next few days I continued to deteriorate.  No matter how much water and how relatively little champagne I drank, I just could not get hydrated. Although I’m generally a ravenous eater, I had to force myself to eat a single piece of pizza for dinner. Despite treating myself to naps as soon as I got home from work, I was constantly fatigued.

It was the hangover that would not die.

I was suffering from the Betty White of hangovers.  No matter how old it got, it still had a shocking amount of spunk and stamina.

I was suffering from the Betty White of hangovers. No matter how old it got, it still had a shocking amount of spunk and stamina.

On the evening of New Year’s Day — nearly 24 hours since I had last hit the sauce — I was swept with a wave of nausea.  This struck me as odd, because, while my body has often rebelled against my questionable judgment, nausea has never been its weapon of choice.

As with most things in life, I decided that the best way to deal with this new development was to sleep it off.

The next morning, I shot out of bed at 7 am and knew that something was wrong.  I immediately threw on jeans, grabbed my book, told a still-sleeping Country Boy that I was going to the emergency room, and ran out the door.

As I sat down in my car, I realized that I was FINALLY having my very own Stars — They’re Just Like US! moment.

Stars -- They're Just Like ME!

Stars — They’re Just Like ME!

It was obvious!

I was clearly suffering from dehydration and/or exhaustion.  Granted I had previously thought that “dehydration” and “exhaustion” were just code words for “light cocaine addiction,” but I now realized that they were actually legit medical conditions and that I had them.  Lindsay Lohan had just been really misunderstood all of these years and now we had something in common.

I get you girl.  I GET YOU.

I get you girl. I GET YOU.

My illness would finally be my ticket to a stay at Promises Treatment Center in Malibu.  If its a good enough place for my girl Britney to recover from “dehydration,” then it’s certainly good enough for me.

It was about time I finally ended up where I belonged, which is amongst all of my celebrity friends.

It was about time I finally ended up where I belonged, which is amongst all of my celebrity friends.

As I pulled up to the ER, I chastised myself for over-reacting and was gripped with fear about the amount of money that this little jaunt was going to cost.  I realized that I probably didn’t need to go to the ER if I could drive myself there.

But, as you all know, there is nothing that I find more attractive than a bad decision, so I marched myself right on in.

At first, everything was seemingly on track.  After about 45 minutes of sample taking and test running, a nurse came into my room, poked me with a needle, and hooked me up to an IV full of fluids.  She stated that I would be getting two bags of fluids to re-hydrate me and two bags of potassium since my levels were low.

I almost squealed in delight. I had dehydration!  I was going to join my celebrity friends at Promises!

But then things took a turn.

Someone else came into the room with an ultrasound machine and did a scan of my entire abdomen.  She didn’t say anything and then just walked out.  This raised a few red flags, but I kept my eye on the celebrity prize.  I convinced myself that they were just making sure that I wasn’t knocked up before they handed me my ticket to Malibu.  They only do ultrasounds for babies, right?

Wrong.

About 10 minutes later, a doctor rushed into the room. After discerning that I had come to the ER alone, she told me that I had to get someone to the hospital immediately to serve as my medical decision-maker, that I had been admitted to the hospital, and that I was going to have surgery to remove my gallbladder as soon as a surgeon was available.

There was absolutely no mention of Promises.

WHAT?!

Lindsay is good enough for Promises, but I’m not.  I can’t even figure out how to properly retain my organs?!

How could this be?  HOW COULD THIS BE?!

I burst into tears from the sheer shock of all of it. Not my finest moment, but I really was not expecting to lose an organ when I got out of bed that morning.

I'm still kind of like a celebrity?

I’m still kind of like a celebrity?

After I pulled myself together, I called Country Boy and was whisked off to do a bunch of extra tests to make sure I wasn’t dying of pancreatic cancer before finally arriving in the operating room around 9 pm to bid adieu to my gallbladder.

The anesthesiologist arrived, and he was 100% unadulterated bro. He had a diamond stud in one ear, he had carefully groomed two-day scruff, and he punctuated EVERY sentence with a “ya feel me, right?”

This dude was my doctor.  Seriously.

This dude was my doctor. Seriously.

As Dr. Bro and I were cracking jokes about the creative drug cocktails of our past, he tapped a vein and started mainlining me.

Dr. Bro then said: “Are you a cheap date?”

I responded: “I think so.  My head already feels tingly. This is like in college when I wouldn’t eat all day, would pound shots of jager, and then totter off to a party in a short skirt.”

Dr. Bro said to Country Boy: “Man, I don’t know if you want to be hearing these stories.”

I chimed in with “It’s cool. We went to college together. He knows he married a classy broad.”

And then I passed out cold.

I’m nothing if not consistent.

Maybe we are kind of alike after all.

Maybe we are kind of alike after all.

I woke up from surgery at midnight in a world of pain.

About two minutes after midnight, I realized that hospitals are gross and that I did not want to be there any longer.  The sheets were scratchy, the smells were weird, and the other guests were making a lot of undignified noises.  This was not a proper place for Princess PinotNinja.

Precisely, Blair, precisely.

Precisely, Blair, precisely.

One of the nurses made the mistake of telling me what I needed to do in order to be discharged from the hospital.  She said that all I had to do was drink juice, eat an entire sandwich, and walk the length of the floor three times.  She then said that it takes most people one to two days to complete those tasks.

My response to that was a very mature “f*ck that noise,” and then I got to work.  Within three hours, I had pounded an absolutely foul sandwich and was walking laps around the hospital floor while swigging from a juice box and pageant waving to all of the nurses.

After a lot of commentary about how I was having the most miraculous recovery that had ever been seen, the nurses sprang me from hospital jail at 9:30 am and I walked out unassisted with a big smile on my face.

As soon as I got into the car, I crumpled into a ball and started screaming in pain. Country Boy gave me a perplexed look, which quickly morphed into a knowing glare once he realized that I had just put on an Academy Award worthy performance because I wanted to get home to my fancy lululemon lounge wear and 1000 thread-count sheets even though I was clearly and absolutely not ready to be discharged from the hospital.

A girl has to do what a girl has to do.

Last weekend was a blur of pain and it will be another few weeks before I can get back to running and causing trouble, but I’m definitely on the mend and getting along just fine without my gallbladder.

Only I would go to the ER thinking that I was Lindsay Lohan and end up losing an organ.
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Author: PinotNinja

Writer at StuntedAdults.com. A reformed hooligan desperately trying, and generally failing, at the art of being a grown up.

178 thoughts on “Even Lindsay Lohan Is Better Than Me (Otherwise Known As Adventures in Organ Removal)

  1. Thanks for sharing your pain in such a funny way! Made me laugh a lot but I hope you are OK!

    • You’re so welcome! And, yes, I am definitely on the mend. My follow-up appointment is this afternoon and I’m very optimistic that I’ll get the okay to go back to running and all of my other regularly scheduled activities.

  2. I laughed. Thank you for sharing. And good luck with your training.

  3. Fantastic stuff, love your style.

  4. Haha brilliant tale, sorry to hear about the organ and the pain but well-told!

  5. Oh ma gah! You’ve been freshly pressed! What, huzzah! Little did you know that your organ debacle would make you a celebrity!

    • YAY!! And in the same batch of Fresh Presses as your pre-Christmas post, so I’m keeping some quite impressive company these days. It’s like the universe is telling us we were destined for mutual greatness or something.

      Leave it to Kallbladder Kardashian to get me fame and notoriety….

  6. Genius! Why do hospitals tell you what it takes to get out? Don’t they know everybody hates it there and they’ll try really hard to… Oh, I get it!

    • Thanks!! I think, based on the look on her face the second after she said it, that the nurse slipped up by letting me know what I had to do to get out of there. It’s like she immediately knew that she had just created a monster who would torture her until released.

  7. This is amazing. Always respect a blogger who knows how to use a properly placed Kim K crying pic. 🙂

  8. Of all the organs though, this was probably the best one to part with, imagine if they had told you you had an issue with your liver? THE party organ.
    Then this post would have been all Kim K crying pics and Lilo looking at you and laughing. She turned MONTHS of prison time into just days and you, you lost your liver? But seriously, glad it’s only a gall bladder, cuz we all know the gall bladder is responsible for…. ? I got nothin, Get better!

    • If my liver went down, my life would be over. There is no PinotNinja without her party organ, which is what I am calling the liver from this day forward since that is f-ing genius. GENIUS!

  9. Thanks for the post. You’re better than Lindsay!

    • That might be the greatest compliment I have ever received. Other than that time a very drunk guy with only one eye open told me that I looked like Sandra Bullock. I treasure that moment.

  10. Really funny. If it cheers you, I can’t imagine Lindsay writing with such humor and humility. She needs some of what you have!

  11. That was hilarious! Make sure to let us know when you dispose of your next organ

  12. Sounds like my emergency gallbladder surgery. But I opted to lay in the hospital bed like a diva while people catered to me. Granted, I live in the wealthiest counties in the US, so it was a pretty fancy hospital. And believe me, my income brings down that average.

    • If my hospital was for divas, then I totally would have stayed. But, I was in a shared room with scratchy sheets, the food was foul, there was no wine list, and, understandably with my relatively routine surgery, I was the nurses’s lowest priority on the floor.

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  15. Just couldnt stop laughing though it was at ur expense… get well soon…

  16. Sounds a bit hectic! Glad you’re okay! Great post 🙂

    • Thanks so much! And, yes, it was certainly hectic. In less than 12 hours and with no warning my whole life was turned upside down. Lesson learned — always take a shower and pack a bag before you go to the emergency room.

  17. Hey, Pinot, you’re Freshly Pressed – congrats! Woot woot!

    I had exactly 2 gall bladder attacks and it was the most pain I ever experienced in my life. Can’t understand how anyone could live with that condition for years.

    • Thanks so much!! Who knew that my over-dramatic gallbladder would actually do something good for me? I certainly didn’t. I really should have appreciated her more while she was with us…

      I cannot believe you went through 2 attacks before having the little sucker ripped out of you. I managed to accidentally catch mine before it went on the offensive, and I’m certainly glad that I did since having one of those gallstones come loose sounds to be the definition of no bueno.

  18. Congrats on the FP, JayZ!

    • Thanks! Now if only I could get Beyonce to call me back. Doesn’t she realize that we would be the very best of friends? Hell, I would even take Kelly Rowland off of her hands.

  19. This is so ridiculously funny, I loved it! Pretty damn happy you were FP’ed so I could stumble across your blog 🙂

  20. You’re adorable. I’m in love with this story!

  21. Haha thats to funny, but am glad you are okay!!

    • Thanks so much! Now that a few weeks have passed and I feel totally back to normal, the whole incident is nothing more than an absolutely hilarious story that I’ll get to tell for the rest of my life. Totally worth it!

  22. This was hilarious. Congrats on being freshly pressed! Happy it brought me your way and I see from the comments that many others I like and follow were already here! I’m always a day late.

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  24. This made me laugh so hard! Seriously, though, I hope you’re mending well and feeling better!

    • Awesome! I am completely on the mend, and I love it that at least my dramas can provide other people with entertainment. It always makes it easier to laugh at yourself and the ridiculous cards the universe deals you when you have other people to laugh with.

      • So happy to hear it! I had to have organs removed in October and I thought I never get out of my stretchy pants, but mending eventually occurred. I loved your humorous take on what was obviously a scary and hectic situation!

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  26. Belated thanks for writing such a fabulous post. It’s easily the best gallbladder related post I’ve ever read. Hopefully the pain is a distant memory. XO

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