Surgery Survivor Note: VERY long and VERY graphic, not for the faint of heart

I should get a T-shirt.
I had my gallbladder removed on Sept. 11th (not a good thing for my apprehensions, especially since the procedure was on a military base...nothing happened (obviously).
So... I started the morning with blood work and x-rays, I was in pretty high spirits, mostly because I was REALLY done with being in pain. How naive I was, the pain was just beginning.
I woke up after the two and a half hour procedure in the recovery room. The first thing I remember was that I was coughing, apparently they had just pulled the tube out of my throat, but luckily I don't remember that part. The first thing I wanted to know was "how many holes are there?" I have no idea why this seemed like the most important question to ask at the time, but it was. The nurses in recovery were very kind. (There are four, if you are as curious as I was, one in the center of my abdomen, just under the breast bone, two more to the right of that one and one in my belly button).
I was wheeled into a room some time later (can't remember the transfer at all).
It was then that I wanted nothing more than to see my husband. He came in and had a hard time looking at me for a few minutes. I suppose it was difficult for him to see me in pain.
But seeing him made me feel much better. I was not in much pain at all, though my throat hurt pretty badly and I couldn't talk much. The inside of my mouth was torn up pretty badly from the breathing tube too.
Then my own personal hell began and did not end until four days ago.
It started with a nurse coming in and telling me I HAD to walk across the room and go to the restroom before I was allowed to go home. No problem right? OH HOLY HELL IT HURT. Sitting up was the 2nd closest thing to dying that I have ever experienced (this comes from a woman who has had kidney stones, twice). But I made it across the room and into the bathroom with minimal help.
I went home at 4pm.
There was nothing but intense pain and nausea from this point on. On Thursday (the 13th) I started having some issues... not to go into too much detail but, things were not exactly moving as they should have been through my system (truthfully, they were not moving at all). So it was back to the ER. We spent 12 hours in the ER, they did scans, blood work, poked me until I nearly punched a doctor in the face and finally decided that I had to be admitted to the hospital.
I was in so much pain as to be nearly delirious that the words "barium enema" did not even register in my bran. OK, now if you have not heard of this little procedure than you will have to research it on your own, needless to say it is highly, highly unpleasant, and that is for someone who did NOT just have abdominal surgery.
Now this experience was the most painful thing I have ever and hope will ever experience in my life. I screamed, cried, began hyperventilating and begged for mercy. I was forced to lay in my side where just two days earlier my very inflamed gallbladder had resided while being filled with gallons of unpleasantness. The memory alone is enough to make me want to vomit.
Well, bodily functions returned, some more unpleasantness as well, but I shall spare you that.
I was supposed to go home that evening, but I was very nauseated and in massive amounts of pain as well as being very dizzy. I ended up staying in the hospital until Sunday morning (the 16th). I hope to never again have to be in a hospital, it is as bad as people say it is.
So... lots of pain and an extended recovery followed. It is now 18 days later and I feel better than I have in months. My scars are a little icky but I earned them, and thus am proud.
Future:
The Law School Admissions Test is on Saturday. I am very, very nervous but so very happy that it will be over soon. My husband's friend (the rocket scientist) is taking the test with me (just for fun, and to show up his lawyer-wife). My entire future depends on my score (and no I am not exaggerating, just ask an attorney). So wish me luck!!