And More . . . ?
I've been getting twinges from my kidneys for a few days, but I was hoping it was just after-effects of all the operations. But yesterday at 7:30 or so, the pain took a sharp uptick. I tried running, to jar whatever it was loose, but it didn't help. Uncertainly, I emailed sub plans to the school in case things got worse.
They did. It became clear I had to go to the hospital again. I was trying unsuccessfully not to panic, so I took a Xanax and a Norco, threw a few things in a bag in case I ended up being admitted (not my first rodeo, or even my tenth), and drove out there. Unfortunately, Darwin Parks McClary was at a council meeting in Ypsilanti and wasn't reachable, but I left him a voice mail telling him what was going on and that he didn't need to leave the meeting. At the hospital, they took their time admitting me--I had to shout at the nurse at one point to get her attention away from her conversation with a security guard about his vacation plans--and finally got me into the ER proper.
By now, the pain was letting up a little. The Norco at work. And here came another Very Handsome Doctor. I'm seriously beginning to think the universe is, in some small way, feeling guilty for sending me this shit, and sending me VHDs is its way of making up for it, at least a little. He got me hooked me up to an IV and gave me a shot of Toradol, which finished off the rest of the pain. Then it was down to x-ray.
The radiology report found two kidney stones on my right. I was scared and a little angry. Dr. L--, my latest surgeon, had put me through two painful operations within seven days and at the end, pronounced me stone free. Did he miss two? Did he see them and dismiss them as unimportant but fail to tell me? Did two more stones form in three weeks?
Another, rather motherly, ER doctor, who wasn't really trained in urology, talked to me about the stones. She looked surprised when I said I'd had stones extracted from my kidneys with a scope. "I didn't know they could do that in kidneys," she said.
I assured her they could, and did, and had. On me. Several times.
She gave me a scrip for more Norco (I have something like four bottles of the stuff now) and told me to drink lots of fluids. The stones should pass on their own eventually. Oh, and go see a urologist.
Seriously?
This is how kidney stones are =supposed= to work, of course. If one gets bad, you go to the hospital, where they shoot you up with fluids and pain meds, do an x-ray to make sure the stone isn't stuck, and send you home. But my case has shifted, and I need to have things looked at.
I got home very, very late last night, still high on a number of medicinal substances. Darwin still hadn't arrived--he was having difficulties of his own at work. He called when he was on his way home, but I'd taken more pain killers and Xanax, and I barely remember the conversation.
Today, I called Dr. L--'s office, and they turned out to have an appointment for late this morning. I took it. We'll see what he says.
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They did. It became clear I had to go to the hospital again. I was trying unsuccessfully not to panic, so I took a Xanax and a Norco, threw a few things in a bag in case I ended up being admitted (not my first rodeo, or even my tenth), and drove out there. Unfortunately, Darwin Parks McClary was at a council meeting in Ypsilanti and wasn't reachable, but I left him a voice mail telling him what was going on and that he didn't need to leave the meeting. At the hospital, they took their time admitting me--I had to shout at the nurse at one point to get her attention away from her conversation with a security guard about his vacation plans--and finally got me into the ER proper.
By now, the pain was letting up a little. The Norco at work. And here came another Very Handsome Doctor. I'm seriously beginning to think the universe is, in some small way, feeling guilty for sending me this shit, and sending me VHDs is its way of making up for it, at least a little. He got me hooked me up to an IV and gave me a shot of Toradol, which finished off the rest of the pain. Then it was down to x-ray.
The radiology report found two kidney stones on my right. I was scared and a little angry. Dr. L--, my latest surgeon, had put me through two painful operations within seven days and at the end, pronounced me stone free. Did he miss two? Did he see them and dismiss them as unimportant but fail to tell me? Did two more stones form in three weeks?
Another, rather motherly, ER doctor, who wasn't really trained in urology, talked to me about the stones. She looked surprised when I said I'd had stones extracted from my kidneys with a scope. "I didn't know they could do that in kidneys," she said.
I assured her they could, and did, and had. On me. Several times.
She gave me a scrip for more Norco (I have something like four bottles of the stuff now) and told me to drink lots of fluids. The stones should pass on their own eventually. Oh, and go see a urologist.
Seriously?
This is how kidney stones are =supposed= to work, of course. If one gets bad, you go to the hospital, where they shoot you up with fluids and pain meds, do an x-ray to make sure the stone isn't stuck, and send you home. But my case has shifted, and I need to have things looked at.
I got home very, very late last night, still high on a number of medicinal substances. Darwin still hadn't arrived--he was having difficulties of his own at work. He called when he was on his way home, but I'd taken more pain killers and Xanax, and I barely remember the conversation.
Today, I called Dr. L--'s office, and they turned out to have an appointment for late this morning. I took it. We'll see what he says.
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