Losing a Gallbladder, Gaining Perspective

On Thursday, April 9, after my class, I felt pain in my chest. I was supposed to attend Isha Ray’s retirement party, but instead I went home. After a while, the pain subsided. The next evening, it returned, so I went to the emergency room at Kaiser. They immediately performed an EKG and, after ruling out a heart problem, ran additional tests. They concluded that there was likely a stone near my liver. I stayed overnight, but by the next afternoon they discharged me, suggesting that the gallstone may have passed.

Relieved, I went home, walked the dogs, had dinner, watched TV, and later went to my office to pick something up. Suddenly, I felt dizzy and collapsed. Leorah had difficulty lifting me, so we called the fire department, who brought me back to the emergency room. This time, after similar tests, they diagnosed an infection in the gallbladder. The infection explained the dizziness and vomiting. I remained in the hospital for four more days before they decided to operate and remove my gallbladder. Now, three days later, I am recovering—enjoying food again and short walks in the neighborhood. Full recovery will take four to five weeks. I lost 20 pounds, and I am adjusting my diet to live without a gallbladder. In the meantime, I canceled several trips; the next one I hope to make is our family trip to Ravello.

Every unpleasant incident has life lessons. In this case, I was touched by the support and love I received, not only from family, but from colleagues and friends, ELP alumni and MDP students. I realized that many have had and survived this experience and got a lot of encouragement and advice. I also learned of a reality of hospitals, and in particular the Kaiser Hospital in Oakland. The facility itself was excellent—my private room felt almost like a hotel. Yet I was, in effect, a prisoner tied to the bed. With electronic monitoring, the moment my feet touched the floor, alarms sounded and staff rushed in. Hospitals are understandably concerned about falls (and I know from family experience how serious those can be), but it meant that even going to the bathroom required supervision.

Within the hospital, there is a clear hierarchy. The doctors and surgeons visited once a day. The surgeons, in particular, were approachable and discussed options with me. One favored immediate removal of the gallbladder, while another preferred additional testing to avoid a more radical intervention. In the end, the surgery was performed—but I sensed that delays allowed the inflammation to worsen, making the procedure more complicated.

The registered nurses carry extraordinary workloads. They handle essential tasks—monitoring vitals, administering medication, managing IVs—while being supported by assistants and technicians who are capable but restricted by certification limits. Conversations with staff and administrators suggested that these requirements may be excessive; expanding the scope of practice for technicians could improve productivity, speed, and patient comfort.

Twice a day, I had a walk in the hospital and we ended up resting looking at the incredible Bay. The Oakland Kaiser Hospital has an incredible two bridge view. People opened up during these walks and one lesson I learned is that they don’t operate to maximize the success rate of the operation but to prevent failure. Therefore, they will take too many tests, delay activities until they’re sure, and as someone said, “Protect the ass.” There is a paranoia against lawsuits. I also learned a lot of interesting personal stories. Many staff spoke positively about working at Kaiser—they are well compensated and treated fairly. I met nurses who had previously worked as traveling nurses, earning and spending heavily while seeing the world, and who now sought stability. Some technicians had transitioned from physically demanding jobs, such as construction, after saving enough to pursue more sustainable careers. A recurring theme was the value of a job that ends after eight hours, leaving space for life outside work. If more income is needed, overtime is available.

Many staff live in the East Bay and own modest homes. Several mentioned plans to sell upon retirement and relocate to more spacious or affordable areas. At the same time, others face financial or time constraints, reflecting the diversity of Kaiser’s employees. 

I didn’t speak about politics with a lot of people. People were really upset about the war. They are good American citizens and they want the country to win but what does that mean? Some nurse said that Teddy Rosevelt – a tough and excellent president – said that America should speak quietly but hold a big stick. With Trump, we are noisy but we have hardly a stick. In the past when I told people that I’m from Israel, it seemed that they had a favorable view, they mentioned “making the desert bloom” and survival in a tough environment while keeping our dignity. More than one person told me that they don’t hold me responsible for Netanyahu and while they’re aware of the terrible pain that the Israeli citizens have to encounter, the Palestinians have their own legitimate complaints, and they cannot accept some of the behavior of the settlers. While people all over the world know that Trump and Hegseth do not represent the spirit of America, they hold the country responsible for their activities. In the same way, if we want it or not, Israel is suffering from the actions of Netanyahu, Ben-Gvir, and their ilk. 

I am glad to be home, focused now on recovery and a healthier lifestyle. The experience was difficult, but it offered a rare opportunity to step outside my usual environment, meet people I would not otherwise encounter, and reflect on systems—medical and social—that we often take for granted.  

*I asked ChatGPT’s opinion on the situation and that’s what I got.