I spent most of Saturday bending over. That was until I found myself wearing a backless gown, flat on my back with pain killing narcotics being pumped directly into my veins. It's never pleasant when you experience so much pain that you get sick at your stomach, but it happened to me.
I was passing a kidney stone. I thought I could gut it out, but about three hours into the episode, I was simply overwhelmed. I have a buddy who is a urologist and I reached him on his cell phone, but he was out of town. He offered to phone in a prescription for pain. I should have accepted the offer, but I was being stubborn.
After pacing around in the restroom for a while, I caught myself cursing aloud. A glance in the mirror revealed a pale complexion, red eyes and deep lines. To put it another way, I looked just about as bad as I felt.
The ER staff took me seriously. I was given IV Dilaudid, and it really helped. I got fluids to help replace everything I had lost by being so sick. Now, it's just a waiting game. The next few days I will be straining my urine. I don't recommend it as a hobby.
I'm still under the influence as I write, so I can't be held accountable. I just hope it make a little sense. The bottom line: Kidney stones HURT.
I'm glad the cat's name isn't Oscar, like the three-year-old feline in a Providence, RI nursing home. That cat curls up next to people just about two hours before they pass away. Apparently, I looked like death earlier in the day. My wife and daughter said at different times that I was green. My wife added, "I saw colors on your face I don't care to see again.
Where do I stand? Apparently, the stone has passed from my kidney into my bladder, and that's what caused all the suffering. What do I have to look forward to? Perhaps it was summed up best by my 18-year-old son, who said "Oh, my God. Now you have to live your life in fear of peeing." Sphere: Related Content