I Unexpectedly Had Surgery - Here's What I Learned About Myself + My Home
My health took an unexpected turn for the worse this summer and it completely caught me off guard. Here’s how it went down and what I learned about myself and home in the chaos.
The summer started off just as expected, with all the normal summer vibes in full force. I cruised into it with a pause on my business, to focus more intentionally on time with my kids, without the pressure of achievement/deadlines looming (incredibly grateful to adjust my work schedule around their yearly rhythms).
Morning walks, bike rides, park visits, VBS week to spiritually reset, beading fun + classes to learn new skills at my friend Abi’s store - Bead Made Beads, kicking the soccer ball around, meeting up with friends in the early mornings before the heat ramped up, eating our weight in ice pops, watching the cucumbers / tomatoes / herbs / flowers take off in the garden, making pickles, a few soccer camps, swimming / all the water things, loads of trips to the library…you name it, the summer was indeed so GOOD.
Colorful summer beading vibes.
Learning how to make Morse Code bracelets.
I’m purposely leaving out some details here, but come late June, I had some pain in my upper abdomen that I thought was related to a stomach muscle strain. Back in May, I was convinced I had strained something lifting weights. I’m an avid kettle bell person and at the time, I worked them into my early morning work outs 4-5 times a week. So a muscle strain, while coaching two youth soccer teams, was definitely not out of the question. Over the next few months I would have these “muscle flare ups” as a I called them, that felt like an intense stomach cramp. I just had to ride them out until it “released”. I would recline in a chair, sip water, take deep breaths and put a heating pad on it. It would last anywhere from 45 minutes to 6-8hrs +. I only had this experience a few times and assumed this strained muscle had gotten aggravated by something I was doing, so I down shifted all my weights and changed my workout patterns.
Weeks would go by at a time without a hint of any issues. Life felt completely normal. My sleep would improve and things seemed to be healing. Then come July, things started to ramp up again. These “episodes” were becoming more frequent. At one point, I started to rethink what might be going on. I did some research and starting considering the idea that I might have a peptic ulcer that was infected. I started paying attention to the foods I was eating to see if there was any correlation or particular triggers. I stopped eating most dairy, did not take any medications for pain (NSAIDS), avoided spicy or greasy foods and had very little caffeine. We already cook a lot at home so it was easy to navigate avoiding certain foods because I knew what was going into everything I was eating. Surely I could get to the bottom of this with these adjustments.
Our family escaped for a week to the hill country area of Kyle, south of Austin, for several days in the middle of July. When I say escaped, I mean that literally. My husband was also having some health issues as well at the time (I’ll spare you those details) and I was in complete confusion as to what was going on with me. But this week, we all got a break. We took a deep breath. We picked up my parents early on Monday and headed out for the week to rest and relax. It was a wonderful week of being in country isolation, an infinite amount of birds singing, continuous breezes, sunshine, swimming and inspiring architecture. We needed this time so much. We had no clue what was coming next.
Drank my matcha here for the week + listened to the birds all week. Heaven.
The coolest covered salt water pool I ever did see at the Plant at Kyle.
Nature showing off in the Texas hill country.
When we got back, by the end of the weekend, my episodes continued to get worse, regardless of what I was eating. My concern started to grow exponentially. One morning I called my general practitioner just to be evaluated, even though I didn’t have a ton of concrete information to share. This was in the middle /later in July, and even after telling them I was having bad reactions to a suspected stomach ulcer, I still couldn’t get into to see anyone until August 7th, which was almost 3 weeks after my call into the them. It felt like an impossible stretch of time. There was zero sense of urgency.
On July 20th, I had one of the worst “episodes” to date. I had extreme stomach pain that made me throw up on and off for hours on end. It started in the morning when I got up, things leveled out for a few hours, then went right back into it. It was completely debilitating. I couldn’t move, I couldn’t get comfortable. I couldn’t do anything. I couldn’t care for my family. I knew this in no way was sustainable, yet I still had to wait several weeks to get into the doctor. I was extremely worried, concerned, and also trying to get my kids ready to go back to school…can’t stop the mom duties.
After I got through that last round, things leveled out a bit and I had some hope. I had maybe 1-2 minor “episodes” but I was able to work through them and keep going. I wanted my kids to have a great end to summer. I didn’t want whatever was going on with me to get in the way.
Now let’s fast forward a bit to Friday August 1st. I had just spent the previous day in the hospital with my husband while he waited for an MRI and for a procedure to be scheduled (again, going to spare you the details). When I woke up that Friday morning, the pain I experienced was the worst to date (some of the worst in my entire life) and it was all over my abdomen, not just isolated to one spot. I had barely eaten the night before because it was a late night picking up kids staying with family while I was at the hospital, etc. I was suppose to go up to the hospital for my husband to have 2 procedures that day and I couldn’t move…I couldn’t stop throwing up (among other symptoms) and I felt like someone had poured acid inside my body coupled with stabbing pain. Nothing about this was normal. I talked with my father in law (while in the fetal position on the floor of my bathroom) and asked him to take over with Luke at the hospital. I debated calling 911 but I was worried about my kids and where they would go and who would take care of them. I got through an intense wave, texted my mom that I needed her to make the 3 hour drive up to help me, and she did, no questions asked. Thank you God for a mom that cares deeply and will drop anything to help her kids. I am so grateful.
My oldest daughter played “mom” that day and took care of herself and her little sister. She also frequently checked in on me. She made meals for them. She entertained them. She played with her. She read with her. Gosh my kids are amazing. I sat in the recliner in my bedroom all day, trying to sip on water but couldn’t keep anything down. To say I was scared was such an understatement. I felt a huge sigh of relief when my mom arrived that afternoon and I knew my kids would be taken care of for the evening.
The next morning, August 2nd (also my 17th wedding anniversary, HA!), I got up early, scheduled an appointment at a local urgent care for 8am, and dragged myself there. I had no energy, no stamina and very little hope that I was going to get much help. But I had to try. Luke was still in the hospital recovering for his two procedures from the day before. With my mom around to help with my girls, I was free to try to run around and attempt to get myself some help. Once I got to urgent care, we did blood labs and those were sent off. The doctor also gave me a referral for a full abdominal ultrasound for the stomach pain I was experiencing. Between the labs and ultrasound being scheduled, the ball was rolling. I felt like maybe we were getting somewhere. By Monday morning, I was able to get in for the abdominal imaging. I pushed for a rush on the results and thankfully after many conversations with people in person, phone calls and SO much waiting/dropped phone calls (and don’t get me started on that obnoxious hip hop style elevator music I listened to on hold during 90% of my medical phone calls), I started to get some answers.
Somewhere in this mess, my husband came home from the hospital. I assumed some care duties to help him with post surgery healing. It was not glamorous but I did what needed to be done. We kept the ship afloat.
On Tuesday morning, I went back to urgent care for them to give me the imaging and blood panel results because nothing would load virtually in my account like they told me it would (I just love when technology works completely against you in a desperate time).
The guy at the front desk handed me some papers. ‘Extreme cholelithiasis’ is what I read halfway down the top paper in the stack he handed me. I pointed to this term and asked the person at the front desk “what does this mean?” One of the medical techs came over and confirmed the definition on the results and she said to me the words “SEVERE GALLSTONES”.
I cussed out loud (something like HOLY SH**). This is 100% out of character for me by the way. Not an avid cusser by nature. I could NOT believe what I was hearing. I could not have been more caught off guard. I left with my paperwork completely stunned, feeling like I was in an alternate universe.
The next 48 hours were a blur, as I waited for my August 7th appointment (that I had ironically made several weeks ago thinking I had an ulcer). Thursday eventually came, I fasted for my next round of labs, and got a full assessment with all the new information I had brought to my nurse practitioner (the only person I could get in to see) and got an immediate referral for a surgeon. I called them in the car after the appointment.
The first surgeon they referred me to couldn’t see me for a full month. I ask for any other surgeon available, who was also well known in the surgery community, and I was able to get in the next day for a pre-surgery appointment. Done. At the appointment, the surgeon told me I had 2 options - that I could “deal with it” (that I ONLY had 5 gallstones in my gallbladder, HA!) OR have my gallbladder removed (which was recommended based on intensity of my symptoms). Well folks, those “only 5 gallstones” nearly killed me. So the decision was simple. My gallbladder removal surgery was scheduled for the next available slot with my new surgeon on August 19, 2025.
Feeling glamorous getting ready for surgery after an extra 1.5 hour delay.
Week+ post surgery check in. I found new gray hairs. Yay for me! I earned those!
I went on a low/no fat eating regiment to prep my body for surgery and to deter it from any more gallbladder attacks. (I’m still eating in this camp now to let my body adjust to my new normal, a few weeks post surgery).
Fast forward to my surgery day and everything went as planned. Thank you God for this boring, uneventful surgery day! As I type this, I am one day away from my post op appointment and I’m on the mend. I’m easing back into things and my incisions are healing as well expected. These battle scars will leaving a lasting impression on me, that’s for sure. We’re getting on the other side of this mess.
But it’s been SCARY as hell. I will not sugar coat it.
WHAT I LEARNED ABOUT MYSELF
Asking for help can feel deflating and debilitating, yet I had no choice. I let my mother fully step in when I needed her, I allowed my father in law to care for my husband in the hospital when I couldn’t be there, I let me kids do more than their fair share around the house when I couldn’t do much of anything, I let friends take things off my plate daily, I said no to a lot.
I am only 1 person and I have limits. Again, this is not enjoyable to admit. I’ve slowly been swirling around with this idea over the past few years, but it has come to a head the last month. We cannot be “on” all the time, deep rest feels hard, and our health is essential.
I care very deeply for others and try to show up for them loyally as much as I can, so others were willing to do the same for me. I’m so grateful for the friendships and relationships in my life - particularly the people who step up for you apologetically during hard moments, when they aren’t sure how to help, but they still show up. That’s the type of person I want to be.
You’re going to be disappointed by people. Some people know you’re going through a hard time and don’t want to “bother you”, yet their silence of not reaching out is far worse. Also, some people aren’t privy to the knowledge of knowing you’re having a hard time and that makes it clear who you can lean on and who you can’t. Not everyone can be in your inner circle and that’s OK.
Self-serve pantry, all day everyday. Always trying to make it easy for anyone to see everything + grab what’s needed.
Our mantle is visible through most of the home. It’s a place where I’ve tried to create visual cues of calm + cozy.
WHAT I LEARNED ABOUT MY HOME
My home is decluttered and organized enough for other people to take over, keep the ship afloat, find things, make food and also take care of themselves in the home. How do we do this? I’ll circle back to this and break it down in a future blog post.
Minimal cleaning was done (and no one cared about it for good reason) for almost 3 weeks and the house was still easy to maintain and not a total hot mess / laundry, dishes, wiping down the counters sometimes and the occasional sweeping of the floor kept things functional.
My home is set up for other people to easily take over and help. As my kids have gotten older, I’ve constantly redesigned systems and locations of things to allow more independence from them with food, clean up, projects, creating, laundry, etc. They could chip in easily and take on a lot of tasks because the home sets them up for success.
My mother, our extended stay house guest for several weeks before and after my surgery, could settled into our home rhythms and be taken care of and comfortable without much effort from me. Her basics were taken care of - a clean bed, bathroom space, a spot for her clothing, access to laundry if needed, she knew where the french press was to make her morning coffee, food was available and easy to find in the fridge and pantry, etc. The home was not a chaotic obstacle for a house guest. She could assist during a stressful time but still be comfortable.
TAKE AWAYS FOR YOUR OWN LIFE + HOME
Listen to your body, early and often. Don’t spend too much time gathering lots of information so you’re “ready” for a doctors visit. If something feels off, go see someone, even if you have to see several doctors. Just do it.
Fight for yourself always and be your own advocate. The number of times I had to ask more questions and not accept what I was being told was astonishing. Listen. Ask questions. Make the phone calls. Show up in person to keep things moving. It’s worth it.
Ask for help and know you’re worth receiving the help.
Create systems in your home that allow for the ebbs and flows of life’s chaos to keep you and your family grounded and taken care of when inside your home.
Have extremely simple, nourishing foods on hand at all times that take little to no effort to prepare. Oatmeal, potatoes, sweet potatoes, cereal, raw veggies, fruit, eggs, toast, etc. Create a list that works for you and your home so you can stay fed even when you’re not well or just completely exhausted.
Remove physical obstacles in your home that make daily tasks hard to do. Get rid of extra “stuff” that doesn’t help you live well or do your daily home routines easily. These things drain your time and your energy.
Edit ruthlessly. Your thoughts. Your belongings. Your time. Yours spaces.
