Health Update: Post-Surgery

I wanted to provide a health update, in light of all of the well-wishes and inquiries that I have received. I had the gallbladder surgery, which was successful. I now have four small wounds in my abdomen, which are healing nicely. The surgeon removed the gallbladder from a spot just beneath the breastbone. That wound is still sore, because the surgeon had to widen it to get some of the larger stones out.

Although I won’t be lifting heavy objects for a while, I am in significantly less pain than I was before the surgery. For that, I am grateful. I already have more energy than I did pre-surgery, likely because I can eat again. The fruit-and-crackers diet (demanded by a malfunctioning gallbladder), left me exhausted and involuntarily losing weight. So, in short, while still recovering, I am already much improved. I am attending to my modest vegetable garden once again. It is a small thing, but there is a sense of agency that comes from watering one’s own tomato plants.

The experience of watching the announcement of a new Pope from a friend’s home while I was in recovery was a little bit surreal, especially given the haste of the announcement. The Church and myself were entering into new chapters. I have hopes that on both fronts, we are moving toward a less painful future.

Illness often bears parallel to incarceration. It places limits on our will, such that the union of body and soul can feel at odds. I think of those who have paralyzing conditions, or progressive degenerations, and who gradually lose the ability to manifest themselves as they wish to. It is a horrifying thought to ponder the loss of control of our own bodies. Times of even mild sickness remind us of human fragility and of the dependency that is inherent in who and what we are. We are dependent on so much: on food, rest, and—most frighteningly—on others.

As members of a fiercely individualistic culture that has been so influenced by the Protestant Work Ethic, it is very difficult for most people to accept help or to acknowledge one’s own weaknesses, even when they are temporary. Yet if we can bring ourselves to do so, we can be shown a different type of culture—a better one. I’ve begun to see that better culture in glimpses: through the kindness of others, the food dropped off, the text messages, and the shared stories. These small acts (and some larger ones) formed a kind of scaffolding while I was temporarily too weak to hold myself up.

The beauty of a community, reflected so clearly in these glimpses, is especially novel for someone like myself, who came from a difficult and broken home, and who therefore has always lacked the familial supports that ought to be the norm. While I have written at length about communities and families, I have done so often in the abstract, as a kind of ideal that I had heard of but had never seen realized. It’s edifying to instead see the embrace of community in practice. It’s a wholesome reality that is difficult to put into words and for which we would all be better off if it were more common.

I want to thank all of you for your prayers, well-wishes, emails, and support during this time. It’s not what I thought my May 2025 would look like, but I am grateful to have never been alone in the fight. Likewise, thank you also to those who shared their medical histories with me so generously, detailing their experiences with dysfunctional gallbladders, so I knew a little more about what I was getting into.

Doing this “work” is a rare privilege, and while immersed in it, I feel that it is what I am supposed to be doing. Hence, it doesn’t really feel like work at all—just the best use of my time. Special thanks to those who make this possible. Stay tuned for an announcement about an upcoming speaking engagement in November.