What A Lovely Day

Today feels like a week. Why can’t the good days feel that way?

I woke up before my alarm this morning with right flank pain. I’ve suffered from kidney stones since I was 21, but almost exclusively in my left kidney. I thought I must have slept wrong, somehow, so I got dressed, kissed Ian goodbye, and went to deliver my papers. 

Before I made it to the first shoppette I knew it wasn’t muscular. Ugh. It takes me about an hour to deliver my papers, so I figured I’d suffer through. 

Then it got worse, like the one I went to the ER for a little over a year ago. I debated posting on Facebook to see if anyone with a military ID could finish my deliveries, but I only have a small window when all the stores accept deliveries, so I decided against that. 

I texted Ian to apologize for not picking up breakfast on my way home and asked him to take me to the ER when I got done.

Finally I finished, probably twenty minutes later than I should have, due to moving slowly and carefully, especially while getting in and out of the car. 

Have you ever had kidney stones? I can stand, hunched over, and I can lie down, my body curved, but sitting and bending are the pits. 

I got home, and Ian drove me to the hospital. An hour after I signed in, I was triaged by a nurse who thought I was faking. I am a little young and female for kidney stones, but I haven’t had to deal with someone that skeptical since 2001, the first four times I sought treatment. I was really young for them then. But for goodness’ sake, woman, it’s in my chart that you’re looking at on your computer screen! I haven’t been in your ER for years, so how can I be a drug seeker?

We waited. We waited through five ambulances and a helicopter; no one was called back from the packed waiting room. You picked a banner day, kidney. Eventually, things started moving in there.

After over three hours, when everyone who had been there before me had been called back, and some discharged, after several of the people who had shown up after me had been called back, after the stone had at least passed from my kidney and I was in less acute pain, I said screw it, let’s go home.

We went home.

I spent a few hours in bed, and Ian went to work. I took a bit of a nap.

When I got up, I saw that I finally got my judges’ feedback for my first entry in the flash fiction challenge. Guess what’s wrong with my story

It’s not entirely believable.

No shit. I must have missed that section in the guidelines where it says fiction submissions must be entirely believable.

I’m disgusted with this feedback.

I guess I know not to bother entering my surrealist fiction in their contests again.

But I had beef stew for dinner, and that’s what I wanted. So there’s that.

Oh, and my manager called about thirty minutes ago to see if I could open the other store tomorrow. I declined.

Hopefully, tomorrow I can spend a couple hours catching up on my reading and commenting. And figure out what Ben, Betty, and Shepard have been up to.

Not entirely believable. Jeez.

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9 Comments on “What A Lovely Day”

  1. KarmenF says:

    Not entirely believable? They shouldn’t even look at my fiction… And God bless when they find themselves in a “not believable” situation in real life… So sorry you are in pain today, I hope it gets better soon

  2. LRose says:

    Beauty, as they say, is in the eye of the beholder. Knowing that doesn’t render a rejection any less painful, but it does help the hurt to pass…er, ummm…sorry…I should say, it does help relieve the pain…nope, nope….not good choice of words either…Dang. Well, let’s just say it’s a nice sentiment that isn’t entirely B.S. Maybe the didn’t like your story, but others do!

  3. Sara says:

    Oh, gad, yes, I’ve had kidney stones. They’re awful. I’m so sorry you had such a miserable day, but I’m glad they seem to have passed without dangerous complications.

    Screw those judges. You just need to find the right market for your awesome story. If I only wanted to read believable stories, I’d just listen to the news.

  4. […] I don’t believe I told you; my second round story, that placed first in the garbage competition in which my first round submission wasn’t entirely believable? […]


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