Glug goes my gallbladder: missing in action

I haven't had bacon in a month now.

A month.

We have entire parties dedicated to bacon. This is a BIG deal guys.

Because apparently there's no real sense of urgency when it comes to your gallbladder. I've been hospital-hopping the past few weeks having various tests done and the conclusion was what was suspected to begin with (obviously, not the conclusion the ER suggested, but the one that my InstagramMDs suggested) - it's broke.

So I woke up at the crack of dawn on a sunny Indiana Friday and headed to the hospital with my mom, to have a HIDA scan done. They inject a tracer into your arm that pretty much acts as bile in your body,  and then they watch it at various intervals to see how your gallbladder (stores bile) handles it.

Except at the 20 min interval, the 40 min interval and the 60 min interval they just really couldn't see my gallbladder. He literally pointed out that he could not find it. And then another guy looked. And then the doctor looked. And then they had be chug a glass of water hoping that'd flush it along. But still only a liver and intestines and slight bout of heartburn were showing bile on the imaging.

So they asked if I had ever woken up in a tub of ice and maybe the absence of my gallbladder on the imaging was due to it being on the black-market in Taiwan somewhere.

And then they brought out the big guns and shot me up with some morphine. To which my gallbladder went all into Hulk mode and turned green (that's a lie, it turned red, but I'm trying to make this incredibly boring test more exciting) and went into hyperdrive.

So it's not COMPLETELY broke. It just needs a little opiate action to give it any motivation. Which is obviously frowned upon. Freakin druggie deadbeat, freeloadin off my body.

I meet with a surgeon in a few weeks. Yes, a few weeks. Like I said - no urgency. It's fine, I'll continue my bacon strike with a full-fledged pouty lip and sad puppy dog eyes.