None shall pass

I don’t often want to complain (or feel like I am complainin’) on this blog. I try to keep it light and family friendly.
But there is an aspect of blief.net that serves as a journal of events. So, years from now I might go back and recall Bork Uncle or reread one of my more popular posts about Dandelions.

This is one of those posts.

I don’t want to remember to drink plenty of water.
I don’t do want to forget the pain.
I don’t want to forget the day “Dada Had a Kidney Stone”.

I am still not clear as to whether “events” have passed, as it were, but right now I am relatively pain free and happy to write about it and share more than I ever thought I might.

Monday I noticed the telltale signs. I will spare you details as this is still a happy blog and not rooted in medical reality. Sometimes I like to push the truth around for artistic effect but let’s just say there was stuff in there that shouldn’t be in there – and you know urine you’re in trouble when it looks like coca-cola.

By Wednesday afternoon I had met with my doctor and some analysis strongly suggested that indeed “Dada Had a Kidney Stone”. Wednesday night there was little left to dispute.

Pain
The worst pain in my short life. After waking up Monya for yet another babysitting stint at oh-dark-thirty The Mommy drove me to the ER, the good one…in Bellevue.
I tell you that even knowing how much I detest the close one I wasn’t sure it was the right choice about 1/2 way there. Turns out it probably was. Remembering just how long The Mommy waited for pain relief when she had her appendix out we probably did a darn sight better at Overlake, even with the drive.

I digress.
The Mommy, by the way, was not happy with the reversal of fortunes. She (and we) are much more accustomed to the shoes being on the others foot. Now she knows why I speed drive hurriedly in those situations and now I know why she yells at me when I do.

Back on track
So, here I am, writhing in pain (the nurses words not mine) and the docs are discussing which pain meds to administer, about where they might get it, and who should do it.
Mind you, they were doing this expeditiously I am sure, but in my state of mind time was elongated and every word took ten times longer to travel through the air. Mine didn’t. I answered questions before they finished their statements with single, clipped, answers.

Mr. Writhing-in-Pain, are you allerg…
NO
…ic to any medica…ok.

Have you ever had a kid…
NO
…ney stone bef…ok.

Do you have a primary care phy…
CELMER – C.E.L.M.E.R
sician…ok.

I have to mention that on the way to the ER I was thinking about just how much medicine I wanted them to give me. I thought, “just enough to knock the top off of this” I don’t want to be so whacked out on some crazy drug that I can’t feel anything.

By the time the nurse finally got to the point where she was about to put the needle in my arm I didn’t care if, in fact I was wishing for, an entire dose that could stop a rhino. She said

You’re gonna feel a…
FINE
…big poke.

I didn’t feel anything, in my arm anyway. In fact, if it would have meant whacking off my arm at the elbow in order to get better access to a vein I would have agreed.

Finally, about 2-3 minutes (that felt like about thirty) after they gave me the painkiller in the IV I was brought down to a level where I could speak in full sentences.

No more writhing
So they took me in for a CT scan, for verification purposes, and the doc later tells me that it is pretty small, only 2mm. “Yer gonna be fine.” Like somehow because it is small I don’t have bragging rights or something. Fine whatever. I have since learned that the tube it is in (the ureter) is around 3-4 mm in diameter. He probably said I would be fine knowing that my stone wasn’t nearly as big as my ureter. Based on my experience I would venture that the measurement they are taking is outside diameter.

Now 2 mm is about the size of the head of a pin – just what does that mean? I looked it up, for your benefit and find that it is about the size of the head of a pin.

Hm…I don’t think that quite cuts it. That just doesn’t do it justice. It’s too smooth, too simple.

I imagine it looks more like this.

Or even this.

But it ends up feeling more like this.

And that’s even in the right spot too.

Okay, enough reliving the pain.
Enough complaining.
This too shall pass.