Thursday, April 16, 2009


Since I am STILL sitting here with a ginormous kidney stone that isn't scheduled to leave my body until next Thursday, I figured that surely you would all like to be entertained with stories about my various doctors appointments. Because what else is there to talk about? It's either doctors appointments or peeing, and I am sure that you all have enough experience with peeing so that you don't need a play-by-play account from me. Although I'm willing to bet money that I have WAY more experience in the peeing department than most of you do about now. I'm a peeing CHAMPION! I should really win something. Y'all get right on that for me, okay?

I believe the word you are looking for is....

ANYWAY. When all this mess started, I had a urinary tract infection. I went to the doctor, and I said, "Dude! I have a kidney stone that has led to a urinary tract infection! DO SOMETHING!" And the doctor inspected my urine, and declared "Wow! You have a urinary tract infection! And with the pain that you have been having...I bet you have a kidney stone! Let's have an x-ray to see!" Low and behold, when the x-raying was completed, it was revealed that....I had a kidney stone! That had led to a urinary tract infection! And then they made me pay them for this discovory.

Then I went to a urologist. He was a cute little man who was seriously befuddled by the enormousness of my kidney stone. He kept saying, "That thing is 14mm! It is way bigger than your last one! What happened?" And I had to confess that I did not know, because my kidney apparently works independently of my brain and has it's very own agenda. An evil one, obviously. The doctor did an ultrasound and declared that my right kidney was blocked and that we would need to do a lithotripsy some time in the next week and that he would have no choice but to put in a stent because my kidney was swollen to ridiculous proportions. Then he left the room.

Moments later he was back, looking distressed. "I just don't think this is a good idea!" He declared, and I began wracking my brain for some idea of mine that I had vocalized that he maybe found offensive. I did not remember having any idea at all except the idea that I really wished my husband was not out of work so that I could justify going to Chick-Fil-A as soon as this was over because waffle fries....YUMMY! Then I thought...wait! Maybe I said this out loud without noticing and he is worried about my lack of a healthy diet and I was about to assure him that I would order a grilled chicken sandwich with the waffle fries to balance it out when he continued. "Your kidney is blocked! We can't wait until next week! Come in tomorrow and we will put in the stent, and then come back Friday to get the stone zapped." And I found myself agreeing that surely this was a better plan, and I was apologetic for even going along with him in the first place when his initial thoughts were so obviously flawed. What was I thinking? Next week??!! I could die by then! Clearly, tomorrow is the better choice.

So the next day I showed up to get knocked out and have a urinary stent put in. There are two things that I have to say about this. The first thing is that, if you are ever cursed with kidney stones and a well-meaning doctor tries to tell you that he wants to place a stent, ask him the following questins: "Will I die if you don't?" and, if not, "Will my kidney explode into little tiny pieces if I just choose to pass the stupid fragments with massive pain pills?" If the answer to both of these questions is no, then tell them to take that stent and....well, put it somewhere else. Just not in you. Because they are EVIL. (The stents, not the doctors. I think.)

The second thing that I have to say about this is that I had to be put to sleep to have the stent placed inside of me to drain my kidney, but they plan to take it out in the doctor's office with local anestesia. I think whoever came up with that plan was on drugs. That is my humble opinion.

Next was the lithotripsy. I was sedated and they blasted the stone and it did not even crack and I missed a perfectly good breakfast for nothing.

Two weeks later, the cute little urologist with all the faulty planning was back to tell me that he was going to have to go in through a tube in my back to suck the monster stone out and that the stent was going to have to stay in until after the surgery. Suddenly, his cuteness was really annoying.

Then (THEN!!) last week they called to tell me that I needed to go see my primary care doctor to get a surgical clearance so that I can have the surgery on the 23rd, and my question then was...what if they don't clear me? And then I decided that I was a prophetess because...they didn't! Apparently, my EKG was "borderline abnormal" and a cardiologist has to check it out before the surgery that is...NEXT WEEK. So the cardiologist worked me in yesterday, and I thought....yay! But then not, because all they did was talk to me and schedule a stress test for Monday, and I could save them the time and energy, because I am certainly stressed. What is there to test?

So. That is where I am right now. Stressed and stented and kidney stone filled. And still sadly without waffle fries. I get teary just thinking about them.

But there is a light on the horizon. We are fairly certain that Ben will be employed again starting on Monday (I kept saying all this time...just wait! They will call him back the week of my surgery! If I were not a Christian, I would set up shop in my living room to take advantage of my obvious psychic abilities.) So next week will be insane, but at least we will have money again. Just in time for all of the medical bills to start rolling in. Don't you love how that works?

So, TTFN. I will check back in after the surgery next week (unless something monumental happens in the meantime that I just have to share with you.) Here's hoping that when we meet again, I will be kidney stone free, stent free, and full of waffle fries.

Well, maybe not JUST waffle fries. Maybe a lemonade, too. And a Chick-Fil-A sandwich. Fried, not grilled.

Take that, you annoyingly cute little urologist.