I spent about eight hours in the ER last night/this morning with my third bout of kidney stone pain in ten days. I get to rise at the crack of dawn tomorrow to be a “scheduled walk-in” at the urology clinic because there is a massive stone possibly stuck in my ureter. After some blood work, we learned that my kidney function was not the best, so depending on how things are in the morning, I’ll either get more tests done if I’ve passed the stone or get a stent if I haven’t.
This was probably the worst one I’ve ever had since my first one fifteen years ago. When the nurse gave me morphine in my IV and it neither helped the pain nor made me not care about it, I started to worry. I’ve only had morphine for kidney stone pain once, but it helped the pain and I didn’t mind what was left.
When I went to CT and had to lie on my stomach I was confused; Ian told me that Google said that meant they thought a stone was stuck. Google was right.
At first the doctor said it was 2.5mm by 5.5mm, but a few hours later, after talking to the urologist, he said the urologist thought it was bigger.
About an hour after the morphine didn’t work, I got Toradol and Zofran. It was another half hour before that kicked in, which was also concerning. The first time I had kidney stones, I got Toradol and felt better before the nurse had the needle in the sharps container.
I thought about How to Die in Oregon. I think if everyone against assisted suicide went through what I did last night, there would be no question. I can’t imagine dealing with constant, intractable pain with no hope for relief. And it’s only been about 24 hours for me.
I don’t want to be too optimistic, but I think my stone has moved some. Hopefully I won’t need a stent tomorrow.
But nothing to eat from now until then, just in case.
stabby and jabby
pain in my left flank tonight
kidney stones again
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.