Word for the day is “Ugh!” Picture this: it’s the slumbering hour, the time when most creatures are sound asleep, dreaming of frolicking through meadows or feasting on leftover lasagna. But not me. Oh no, I was stunned wide awake, experiencing a pain that could rival a medieval torture device. Yes, ladies and gentlemen, I had the pleasure of welcoming a kidney stone into my life, and let me tell you, it was anything but a welcome guest.
It all started innocently enough. I was nestled in my bed, deep into dreamland when suddenly, I was rudely awakened by a sensation that felt like a miniature jackhammer was attempting to tunnel its way out of my abdomen with one of those things that a dental hygienist uses to pick tartar off your teeth! Ah yes, the classic kidney stone alarm clock, ringing promptly at 1 a.m. because apparently, stones have a wicked sense of humor.
In a state of panic, I stumbled out of bed and attempted to find relief in the most logical place I could think of — the bathtub. You see, I had heard tales of people finding solace in a warm bath during times of distress, so naturally, I thought, “Why not give it a whirl?” Spoiler alert: it didn’t work. As I lay there, writhing in agony while trying to maintain a semblance of dignity, I couldn’t help but wonder if my neighbors could hear my cries of despair echoing through the walls. Sorry, folks, no need to call the Ghostbusters, it’s just me and my kidney stone having a good old-fashioned brawl. My body was contorting just like a fish out of water even though it was submerged in water. I threw up from pain.
With the bathwater growing cold and my patience wearing thin, I made the executive decision to embark on a journey to the promised land—a.k.a. the emergency room. Now, let me paint you a picture of this delightful excursion: me, clad in mismatched pajamas and sporting a hairstyle that can only be described as “bedhead chic,” hunched over in the seat like a weary traveler on the road to redemption. I grabbed a baseball hat on my way out. Oh, what a sight to behold. That husband of mine drove as my body was letting out the most peculiar sound of agony. It was a groaning that I couldn’t stop. It is approximately 30 miles that needed to be traveled in order to get me to the emergency room. I remember feeling like I was going to pass out at mile 3 but willed myself to live.
Arriving at the ER felt like crossing the finish line of a marathon, except instead of a medal, I was going to hopefully be rewarded with the sweet, sweet promise of intravenous pain medication. A nurse met me at the emergency room door and before I said a word she proclaimed, “Ah! I recognize your dance. It’s the spasmatic kidney stone dance!” I suddenly felt safe. I got into the room, sat on the edge of the gurney and immediately felt the horror of the feeling I get just before I’m about to throw up. The nurse grabbed for one of those throw up bags and with not a millisecond to spare I hurled my pain into that bag. She asked for my driver’s license so we didn’t have to waste time with paperwork. She disappeared for just a few moments and approached with her magic syringes of relief! (Go right ahead and scream, “Hallelujah” with me!) The IV was quickly put in place. I couldn’t help but feel a sense of euphoria wash over me. Ah yes, this was the good stuff — the elixirs of life, the nectars of the gods. I half expected confetti to rain down from the heavens as I drifted off into a blissful haze of relief from the anti nausea med, the pain med and the IV anti-inflammatory!
As I lay there, basking in the warm embrace of pharmaceuticals, I couldn’t help but reflect on the absurdity of it all. Here I was, a grown adult, reduced to a whimpering mess by a tiny pebble masquerading as an unruly kidney stone. Oh, the indignity! But hey, at least I had a good story to tell at gatherings, right? “Hey, remember that time I got woken up by a kidney stone at 1 a.m.? Good times, good times.”
And so, dear readers, I’m emerging from this harrowing ordeal with a newfound appreciation for the quirks and quibbles of the human body. It has not passed yet. But, it’s getting close! I can do this. After all, life is like a kidney stone — you never know when it’s going to hit you, but when it does, you better believe it’ll be a wild ride. So here’s to embracing the absurdity, laughing in the face of adversity, and always keeping a spare bottle of painkillers handy, just in case. “Cheers to you, kidney stone, you cheeky little devil.” From this day forward you will never see me without a large water tumbler mixed with lemon juice and olive oil because this can never happen again! NEVER! Owie!
Bless the night shift doctor, nurse and CT scan operator for the best, most compassionate care. You were called in to save me and for that – I love you! They sent me home with a parting gift for being brave. It’s my very own kidney stone strainer-catcher.
Have you had kidney stones? Do tell! dakotajodi@yahoo.com
Please pray mine passes soon! I feel like I have to tinkle every 2 minutes and that is not an exaggeration! Ugh! Just ugh!
