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Good intentions

April 18, 2011

I had good intentions of posting Friday, I really did. However, a teeny, tiny piece of calcified goo intervened. I became a casualty of a kidney stone.

It’s not the first time I’ve had one. Four years ago, I spent about nine hours in utter and complete agony with one. I became very dehydrated very quickly, to the extent that they couldn’t get a vein to give me any pain meds, thus the nine pain-filled hours. X-rays and CT scans didn’t see a stone, but sure enough, that’s what it was, as became evident the following day when it passed.

Which brings me to Friday. I was at work, and having some intermittent pain that vaguely resembled the prior attack. I wasn’t sure, though, since it had come on like a freight train four years ago. I called the urologist’s office, and they set up an appointment for later in the day. Ten minutes later, I was back on the phone with them – the freight train had arrived!

Once again, x-rays and CT scans showed nothing. But again, like before, this too shall pass, and it did, late Friday night.

Here are some things I learned this time around:

  • I’m evidently among the 2% whose stones like to hide. I’m going to make sure I always have a narcotic pain reliever on me. If it happens again, I can get quick relief and just ride it out instead of rushing to the doctor and getting expensive tests that don’t show anything definitive.
  • It’s not a good idea to drive yourself anywhere when you’re in intense pain and have been sobbing incoherently for several hours straight.
  • It’s also not a good idea to be tough and forego the Torodol shot because at that moment, in whatever particular position you’re in, the pain’s “not too bad.”
  • It’s really okay to say something other than “I’m fine, thanks, and you?” when someone asks how you are. This is particularly true when you’re doubled over in pain in front of them, sobbing incoherently and panting like a woman in her sixth hour of labor.
  • When you’ve been sobbing incoherently, don’t shove all the used tissues into your purse to be discovered the next day when sanity returns. Trust me, it’s just gross.

From → Rambling stories

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