The Gall Of It All

Well, ya'll, it is official, neither me nor my husband are young anymore. Actually, we are, but we're not as young as we once were and evidently are not immune to strange medical phenomena. In this case...dum de dum...it is Chad's gall bladder.



Let me give you a bit of a back up story:

Husband complains after he eats of pain in his stomach. Wife chalks it up to a.) her bad cooking or b.) flatulence (and then prays that it's just her bad cooking). Well, there are many other reasons that your hubby can have pain after eating and gall stones are one of them. After several tests and an ultrasound, which, I must say, put me in a state of panic that was new to me, the doctor decides that it's time for Chad's gall bladder to come out. Because obviously it's a silly little organ that can be extracted from his body through outpatient surgery. He does the outpatient surgery and baddabing, baddaboom, no more gall bladder, no more gall stones.

You know what his concern is? He says to me, as I'm mentally doing calculations on how we're going to put doctor bills into our Dave Ramsey budget while staving off unemployment and giving to charity at the same time...
"It really sucks because I love cheeseburgers so much." Um...I'm sorry, what?!
"Chad, honey, you can still have a cheeseburger every once and a while, you just can't have one every single day."
Cheeseburgers are his favorite food, yes, but I've been scared he's going to fall over dead with some dread disease and his main concern is that he won't be able to enjoy the culinary delights of Burger King. That's a man for you. Gotta love 'em, but the GALL!!!

And yes, I will be using gall bladder jokes as much as possible.