It's rather like Fight Club. "I am Jack's raging bile duct." Instead, I got 2 hand-illustrated pamphlets - "I am Jaime's Gall Bladder."

Terribly disconcerting to think that I had my surgery explained to me via a bunch of 3rd-grade level comic books.

On Monday, I had a CAT scan. 48oz of the worst tasting, thickest poisonous drink followed by a GIANT, dye-injecting IV, and 15 minutes of scan. Turns out, they figure out I had Gall Stones. Which they figured out I had A MONTH AGO!!

Anyway, on March 21, I'm having Ernest removed. I named my troublesome Gallbladder Ernest. After Hemingway. Say 'Goodbye,' Ernest!

I plan on saying goodbye by tossing Ernest down a snow-covered hill the weekend before while strapped to a plank. Good fun all around!