Kidney Stones Suck

I decided to open this blog with a couple of Haiku poems:

Sharp pain in the back
Shooting through my aching groin
Now, the pain is gone.

A small little stone
Causing pain down to the bone
Passing brings relief.

I'm feeling poetic tonight as you can see. Thursday I got to experience what people laughing tell you is the male equivalent of labor, yep you guessed it, I had a Kidney Stone. If you didn't guess it, then ya might want to shut down now and go back to school. Male equivalent of labor, like such a thing exists. The pain sucked, but it was only for a few hours and I didn't have to watch my belly grow for 9 months to get to that point. As much as it sucked, it was nowhere near labor and God Bless Women for going through that so that men don't have to.

Actually, I have two Kidney Stones as my friend Mr. CAT Scan told me via my Urologists moving lips. The first one, I named him Keith, made his appearance known to me Thursday afternoon about 1:30. I was sitting at my desk enjoying my 3rd 20oz Mt. Dew of the day, enjoying my caffeine buzz from the previous two and my 2 cokes at lunch (see I've switched to caffeine as my drug of choice since I can't drink anymore), when Keith decided to leave his twin brother, who I'm naming Brian, and start the fun 4 hour+ journey through my ureter. I had one about 10 years ago, so I immediately recognized the fun I was about to go through. As I was sitting there, it felt like a giant gorilla reached out grabbed my along my right side, began squeezing, while simultaneoulsy digging his thumb in my back at the bottom of my rib cage. Whomever said that humans have no instincts never had a kidney stone. I knew that I had to get to the hospital as soon as I could, because that's where they keep the cool drugs and the even cooler Xray machines, wave devices, surgical instruments, and anything else to stop this gorilla from killing me via my kidneys. After reacting with a brilliant statement in my head of, "This hurts", was to shutdown my computer and walk to the cube of my friend. I told him I had a kidney stone and was going to the hospital. The look on his face was priceless, even before I told him I was in excruciating pain.

Now, I've read, heard, and been advised that you shouldn't drive yourself to the hospital when you have a kidney stone. Let me tell you this, driving was actually better than sitting there willing the car to go faster. With driving, I had something else to distract me from the 4mm stone traveling through my 1mm opening that I think is like 10 miles long inside my body. The other benefit is I could not only will the car to go faster, I could push that big pedal on the right and move that wheel thingy to get it there faster. I say to those of you who recommend against driving while in debalitating pain, don't knock it until you try it. Along the way, I called my wife who had taken my kids earlier that day to a pumpkin patch 50 miles away, to let her know that I had a kidney stone and was enroute to receive halucinogenic drugs and comfort. I seem to remember a few years back, and I have video to prove it, that we said we'd stick by each other "In Sickness and In Health". My wife's reaction made me wonder if it was only her Health that she was gonna stick by me. The conversation went like this. Me in a soft, pain-filled voice: "I have a kidney stone and I'm on the way to the hospital near the house.". Her in a loud obnoxious tone: "HA HA HA HA HA HA. Honey that's terrible." Laughter, not quite what I expected.

See she was around for the last one, and it freaked her out more than it did me. She drove me to the hospital that time about 50 miles an hour faster than I drove myself (another reason I drove myself, she's a maniac behind the wheel). I figured that some sort of concern, sympathy, empathy was coming my way when I called my sweet, loving, caring wife. Laughter was not what I expected.

I get to the hospital, the pain mellows slightly, or was it just the adrenaline kicking in? I finally find a space as I look around at the hearse (an ominous sign, I'm hoping not), the 3 ambulances, and the over abundance of cars. Looks like I picked "Have and Injury, get one Free Day" at the emergency room. I'm driven to get relief, but driving to a slower paced hospital isn't in my plans right now. I finish the XM Radio comedy skit I'm listening to, and go inside the hospital where I meet the friendly nurse behind 3" thick bullet proof glass speaking to me through that 4" round verigated disk with the clipboard passed under the window through the trough. I sign my name, and kindly explain that I have a kidney stone. Here was my first exposure the the most common question you get when you tell medical people that you have a kidney stone, "Do you also have a fever?" Now I have to worry about that? Am I supposed to have a fever? If I do, does that mean it's much worse than a kidney stone, could it be my gall bladder has ruptured, could it be my spleen, my appendix? Even in a pain enduced stupor, it is amazing the permutations the human mind can come up with for an ailment. I snap back to reality when the invisible Gorilla tightens his grip on my side, to kindly explain that I do not have a fever, just a 10" stone moving through an opening designed for fluids. "Thank you sir, please have a seat and we'll be right with you." Right with you, yeah, right with you. Emergency rooms are the only people in the world who make airlines look like Swiss timing experts. Right with you, 3 ambulances outside, 7 snot nosed kids running around, some guy who looks like he died last week, and a 2 year old who needs stitches removed, right with you I think to myself as I begin hypnotizing myself to avoid the pain which I think is growing. Luckily for me, the cold sweat that I've been in for the past 30 minutes has started to drip from my forehead, across my unibrow and into my eyes. I looked at her as pitiful as I could and mustered a contrived, faint as possible, "Thank you.". It is this point in time where I start to take stock of my life, and I thank god for the time I spent working on cellular phones. In the past I would've had to read 4 year old copies of Ladies Home Journal, Redwood, Readers Digest Condensed Version of Condensed Version Tragedies, or Christain Home Network while I waited for them to "... be Right with you". Today, I had my trusty cellular phone with my bevy of loaded games. I was able to beat the computer at the highlest level of backgammon 3 times, bowled consecutive games of 199, and was able to successfully land my parachute dude on the little circle while I waited for them to"...be Right with you.". It is also at this time I realize that the human mind is amazing, it is capable of blocking out high level of pain by focusing on moving blips around the screen as quick as possible and by hoping for double 4's so I can get my little brown blip off the center bar AND put 2 of his guys up there.

As it turns out "...be Right with you" only took 15 minutes. My blood pressure as a calm cool collected 166/124 a new personal record. So much for blocking out the pain, guess the part of my brain controlling my heart wasn't fooled. Even the nice conversation I had with the 3-year old about her new green jacket and pretty butterfly on her shirt didn't help. She once again asked me if I had a fever...what's with the fever?...then she checked me for a fever, handed me a cup and found me another nurse to escort me back to a room she called "Vis 2". As I walked dumbfounded back to "Vis 2" (thinking in the back part of my brain what is that code for?), I started at the pee cup. Last thing on my mind was going pee, much less under pressure to produce enough for a stream and the cup.

We make is to "Vis 2" where I'm handed a lovely Versace gown, well it could've been originally worn by Courtney Love on a drug induced binge where she slept in the gutter, and pointed to the room where I can fill the cup.

I quickly strip (I love to strip, just wished I had some good music to move my hips to, maybe seduce that hot nurse I passed on the way in) and slip on my Versace, does the spilt go to the front or the back? I'm always challenged by such lovely clothing, especially dresses since I don't ever wear them. I finally get it on, tie it up. Look down at my striped underwear, glad they were clean, and my new white socks. OK, I always keep my socks on in the hospital. You never know what's on the floors and it was as near as I could tell like 40 degrees in there. Being male, I had a nice porno movie thought flash through my mind as I'm there in my open back gown with my socks. I trudge to the toilet, fill the cup, trudge back to the room, and curl up in the fetal position. Right by my head is a 5" TV on a robotic arm of some kind. I think the original idea was to get the TV close to the bed, that was the idea the implementation didn't quite happen that way. I turn it on to find something to drown out the noise..Food TV, not now, Discover channel, that'll work...and curl up in a new yoga position called Fetal Kidney Stone Pain Relief Attempt.

A knock at the door, I'm thinking finally a Dr., a Nurse, somebody with pain relief. Wrong, see before I can be treated the hospital must make sure that they can get paid. Remember my strip comment earlier, in my haste to get into my gown and get treated I didn't think about strategically placing my pants with all my stuff close to me. The admin with the Johnny 5 computer cart wasn't much help. So, I must unwind my limbs from the newly discovered Yoga position and retrieve my wallet from my pants which are as you guessed under all of my other articles of clothing. Oh, and we had to turn off my noise distraction so she could hear. I'm thinking to myself about now, remember that period "...be Right With You" why don't they get my paperwork stuff then instead of stalling the Dr. or Nurse with my happy drugs. We finish, I climb back on the bed which isn't at a comfortable angle and resume my Yoga position. The pain begins to worsen, coming in spasms now, sweat dripping of my forehead, back of my head soaked...my only recourse is to lay in my Yoga position and begin to chant like a Tibetian Monk with a Hangover..."Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck".

After what seems like 6 hours but was only 6 minutes this "hot" (my wife's later description of him) shows up, checks me out. First question, "Do you have a fever?" I'm beginning to think that they have a special on Fever treatment or if I say yes, I'll get a happy ending from the hot nurse I passed on the way in. He checks me out, says he's 99% sure I have a Kidney Stone, would like to get a CAT scan and he'll send a nurse "Right In" with some medication to help with the pain.

I don't know about you, but when I hear "Right In", even in a hospital I'm thinking 10 minutes at tops. Especially since I'm in the back where all the good stuff is and the people who know how to administer it do their thing. I lay my head back at it's 48 degree angle, assume my Yoga position and resume my chanting, "Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck". Thinking that the TV which is 3 ft away from the bed is too far to reach, I continue my chanting and mind channeling. The mind channeling doesn't last long, seems that Hawaii is a long way from Texas when you have a Rock the size of Gibraltar moving through your ureter. I swear, geese migrate from Canada to Mexico faster than this thing is moving through my body. 5 minutes goes by, 10 minutes, 15 minutes, 20 minutes....I refocus on the beach in Hawaii, start playing golf courses in my mind (I know I'm sick because I shot a 68, should've been a 65 but that invisible gorilla made me pull 3 putts to the right)...30 minutes, 40 minutes, 50 minutes....at exactly 1 hour 3 minutes 27 seconds I hear a cart outside my door an a knock on the door. Mr. Patient, sorry for the wait we had a rush of patients, I'm here with your pain medication. Needles don't bother me, I was happy to offer my free arm, remember my other limbs were twisted in a complex Kidney Stone Reilef Yoga position, have her poke me (the bruise is healing nicely thanks for asking), take 3 vials of blood, asking me while she was doing it if I had a fever, then finally putting in my happy drugs. Ahhhhh, some relief. The gorilla has been replaced by one of those monkeys playing an accordian, and it was a shitty tune I didn't like, and I'm feeling better.

My wife, I seem to recall calling her to hear her laughter at my situation. Is she coming? The hospital isn't that from from the house. Maybe I don't have a Kidney Stone after all. Maybe she's been poisoning me and this is the last stages of my life. Ah Hah, it dawns on me. If my wife has been poisoning me, then I'd have a fever. Still, where is she? hmmmm....

She finally makes it to the hospital to find me, to comfot me. She walks in the room takes a look at my IV needle, my newly discovered fondness for Yoga, and my eloquent chant of "Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck", and does what every loving wife does, laughs. I'm glad my misery brings her such joy.

Less than a minute after her arrival, Chuck the X-ray guy shows up. Now that I have happy drugs, I say what I always say to guys named Chuck, "What's up Chuck?", pausing slightly between the "What's" and the "up". Say it out loud, it really is funny. He misses my joke, as I'm sure most of you just did and wheels me to the CAT scan. Before we leave my room, Chuck does what no other person in the hospital seems capable of, he finds me a sheet and a blanket, guess he didn't like my Versace, striped underwear and white sock ensemble, and covers me
up. Like the opening scene to a Police Squad TV show he wheels me down the hall to CAT scan room. Usually I like to lay on my back and watch the lights go by with periods of stillness as we pass the ceiling tiles, today I stayed in my comforting Yoga position. We get there, I scooch from my bed to the CAT scan bed slide down into the donut of death chamber and begin my series of breathing exercises while the tomb of death spins overhead. Technology is wonderful though, 10 years ago I got a needle, and IV pumped full of glow in the dark fluids through a vein in my forearm I didn't know I had and run through a series of Xrays. Thanks to advancements in technology and medicine, Chuck has me in and out in less time that it took me to fill out the paperwork to quailfy for this fine treatment.

He wheels me back to my room and my lovely wife, where we wait for the Dr. to "...be Right With You." After not too long in hospital time, I think another 30 minutes my "hot" doctor comes into explain to me my condition. He once again starts off by asking me if I've had any kind of fever or have one now....what the hell, the bitch is poisoning me isn't she...do I get a 50% discount on Thursdays after 2 if I have a fever?....is it worse?...

It is as this point my wife becomes an expert on my healthly living and drinking habits. My Dr. is trying to explain that I have a Kidney Stone, no shit, and my options are to try to finish passing it, here's an RX for some pain killers, insert (and this is a direct quote) "a Telescope" into me through a very tiny opening and retrieve the stone, or locate the lithotripsy machine go meet it and have the stone removed. That's the condensed version, I think that my wife during the middle of this felt bad for laughing at me twice, leaving me there alone in the hospital to discover a higher level of being (in pain), must've interrupted him out of anxiety about 15 times. "He drinks too much Mt. Dew doesn't he?", "He needs to eat better", "It's too much calcium, too much dairy, too many cokes, too much masturbation as a youth"....between Dr. Hottie and myself we get through the interruptions to decide that I'll beging taking on more water than the Titanic and see the urologist on call on Friday.

Thank you, here's a prescription for the pain, drink more water than New Orleans had pour through the levy, see the urologist tomorrow, and hope the rest of your night goes smoothly. Oh, you need to start straining your urine to catch the stone when it comes out. I'm almost home free, feeling a little better about things until that "catch the stone" phrase. Catch, that has a certain velocity tone to it. Before a catch there is some sort of throwing, casting, tossing motion that happens. I begin to pray for a smooth stone, not one that looks like a goat head sticker or one of those stickers you get caught in your sock walking through the weeds. Please dear God, grant me a smooth stone, football shaped if possible.

We pack up the hospital and leave, off to Walgreens to get my vicadin generic knock-off equivalent. The pain is not as great as when I came to the hospital, but it is still there nonetheless and I still have Keith somewhere inside my body tying to break free

Thursday night, feeling better. Get home the pain has subsided, turn on some baseball and camp out on the couch. Hey I'm feeling pretty good, I think I'll skip my generic vicadin knock-offs for now. Time for bed, I go to sleep feeling pretty good.

4am, I hear a thumping in my ear, sounds like a gorilla. I open one eye to see Jane Goodall sitting in the mist. Oh no, he's got me again, that Gorilla is back kicking my ass. I get up to take two of those pills, that should help. Wrong. No help there. Seems generic vicadin doesn't do a thing for kidney stone pain once it's set in. Now that I think of it, it's been about 12 hours since my shots at the hospital, I need me some of those drugs....

I trudge back to my bed, assume my Yoga position and begin chanting in my mind "Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck"...the vicadin at least helped me sleep, until about 6AM when the pain kicked in again.... Reread this paragraph a few times, bumping it ahead and hour each time, that should save me some typing.

My contractions are at half hour intervals now and last 20 minutes each. The cold sweats aren't too bad, I've become used to them. Relief must be coming soon..."Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck".

At 9AM we load up and head off to the urologist with a quick stop next door to pick up the nice pictures Chuck took of my insides. I'm a little nervous as this is a urologist I've never met. My experience with urologists has been interesting to say the least. I find myself a little nervous, as I've never met him and what I'm used to is older men with smooth hands fondling my balls or coaxing fluid out of my prostate. They don't do that for Kidney Stones do they?

Turns out I ended up with a good doctor. He took the time to sit down and draw me a picture, yes draw me a picture on a blank piece of paper. Explaining that I have 2 stones, Keith is in my bladder and Brian is still in my kidney. He tells me to drink lots and lots of water, lemonade is good as well, and try to flush it out. Here's some samples of a Prostate medicine and an uber muscle relaxant pain pill used on Arthritis patients, and here's a prescription. For a kidney stone there are 3 options, go in through the end and retrieve it from the bladder. My urologist or his twin brother will be on call if the pain is unberable this weekend. Wait for the traveling machines to either break it apart with sound waves or go in through a small incision in the back to retrieve the stone out of the Kidney. I have that to look forward to.

After his great explanation and art skills we leave his office, he hands me a paper bag of goodies. Asks me if I have..no not a fever...a strainer to catch the stone. I tell him I'm using a modified kitchen one, so he pulls out this cool copenhagen looking cup that folds out like a girl scout water cup with a screen on the bottom. Thus the pee straining saga begins.....

I now have a new found respect for women. How do all of you pee in that cup while sitting on the toilet? There isn't enough room between where the stream originates and the edge of the bowl and I'm not that flexible. Standing up to pee is a no brainer, I flip out my cup, hold it firmly in one hand and do my thing, apprhensively of course, waiting for a 4mm stone to come out an opening not much bigger than that, but it is quite another those times when I had to "drop the kids off at the pool" (as my buddy would say).

Friday comes and goes, no stone. I'm ingesting more water than the hoover dam, peeing more frequently than shots are sold at a local bar on buy 1 get on 1 free night and sitting around feeling drained waiting to give birth to Keith as I've now named him. Thankful that invisible Gorillas run and hide from Arthritis muscle relxants.

Saturday I wake up feeling markedly better. I take my two medications,haven't touched my vicadin generic knock-off, and tell the wife, "Let's go somewhere and do something, get me out of the house." I hop in the shower, get out, lay down and proceed to sleep off and on from 9AM to 5PM. I'm starting to think I should skip the muscle relaxants if I want to see any baseball or football or my kids grow or work ever again.

Sunday, I skip the Arthritis medicine. Continue to ingest water. Anytime I hear the word water, a word that rhymes with it, see a glass of water, a bottle of water, take a sip I have to go pee. I've become expert at the cup flip, the wizz, the wash, the dry, the repackaging of my convenient copenhagen sized strainer complete with area to hold Keith when he arrives.

Monday, I'm feeling better, so I return to work. All goes well as could be expected, I stay at my desk for most of the day catching up on my writiing, reading and arithmetic. 4 o'clock...what is it with 4 o'clock. I start to feel some back spasms and sharp pain in my back. Not nearly as bad as the original pain on Thursday and Friday morning, but sharp...enough to let me know that I should probably head home, camp myself on the couch in the butt dents from Thursday night, Friday, Saturday, and Sunday.

Tuesday, Interview day, can't let this kidney stone stop me now. If you've read my other blogs you know about the global restructuring event taking place at work. Through all this kidney stuff, I've managed to land in interview with a different group and growth potential...the give and take of life I suppose. I'm still drinking water like tomorrow the world will be out of it and the only way to get any is to store it in my body. I'm peeing still on regular 15 minute intervals...I have a routine in the first stall at work. The double toilet paper dispenser makes a nice shelf to lay out my girl scout cup strainer. I'm like a junkie preparing his spoon, rubber band, needle and match. Still no stone, as my interview times approach my biggest fear is passing the stone with it's imagined barbs causing grave bodily damage either right before my interview or during my break between my two time slots. As with most imagined events in life, the stone still had not passed, and my interviews went well...wish me and Keith luck!!

Tuesday night, I'm finally not feeling like I have to go pee on 15 minute intervals. I've resigned myself to waiting for Keith. I put the kids to bed. Get up, go pee...still no stone in the strainer. I finish, thinking "Oh well, he'll come eventually, at least I'm not in pain."

I do the pinch/tap to get the last drop out, I feel this sharp pain.
Ouch, what in the hell is poking me in there...oh my, here's my stone.

I milk it out, for lack of a better description, and look at it. Before I
describe Keith to you, let me go back to the term "catch". There was no throw, no jettison of a stone through forced urine from gallons upon gallons of water, it merely fell out after I had to push it from the bottom.

The stone, it's about 4mm long and looks like a to scale version of a oyster shell that has washed up on the shore. Luckily there were no barbs like a sticker that gets stuck in your sock. He was a nice dark stone color, not milky/calcium white as I've heard some stones described.

The anticipation, the apprehension, the pain all over in the wink of an eye.

Now I get to turn my attention to Keith's slightly larger twin brother Brian. In two weeks I'm getting pumped full of radioactive glistening fluids and have pictures taken of Brian. I'm thinking of dressing them alike for the photo shoot. If he shows up nicely for the picture and doesn't decide to invade my stretched ureter -- which I'm prepared for with a bevy of prescription narcotics -- then we'll perform a kidney stone cesarian. If I'm lucky and I time it right, we can just blast Brian out of my kidney using super sonic waves. To do that I have to time things around the 1 machine that is available for the 4 state area. Once again, wish me luck!
Rock solidly yours, Gio

For more information on Kidney Stones(renal calculi or nephroalithasis), please see WebMDHealth at http://my.webmd.com/hw/kidney_stones/hw204798.asp
They hurt a lot and are no laughing matter.