The Continuing Stone Saga

So Friday is a blur. Ducky takes sweetP to school. Then goes to pick up my prescription. And comes home with 10 pills. 10 pills! Like that is going to be enough. I have done this before. The last time it took 15 days to pass. 10 pills.

But Friday passes quickly enough. I spend the majority of the day on the couch watching tv, my little sweetE cuddled in next to me. Ducky picks up sweetP at school and brings him home and heads back to work. He's self-employed. Flexible, but not completely. He gets home at five and I go to bed. And sleep until midnight, when knock-knock, guess who. Mr. Stone is on the move again. I down a pain pill, curl up on the couch and hope that I can go back to sleep. That my family can continue to sleep. And it works. An hour later, I head back to bed. Every four hours I wake up, reload, and go back to sleep. I sleep for 15 hours. Better.

Saturday. Ducky takes sweetE to exchange the DVR. If I am living on the couch, watching tv, the DVR better be working. I am feeling okay, drugged but livable. The plan, go to Urgent Care and get a refill. So off we go. I get dropped at the door, all the boys go to get some lunch. I'll call when I'm done. I have the routine down.

"I have a stone."

"Are you having pain now?"

"No, not for the last hour."

"Do you think it has passed?"

"I want to say yes, but I don't think so."

"Okay, head down to the lab. We'll need a sample."

"Goody"

So the very nice Urgent Care doctor was a little surprised that the very nice ER doctor didn't get a scan, x-ray or anything. Me too. And agreed with me that 10 pills is not enough. Even if most stones pass in 48 hours. She orders a CT scan. But, the CT scanner is on the other side of town. But I am willing, I want to know if it is gone, if it had friends and how much more I will suffer.

So off we go. I have really good kids. They complained very little about all of this time spent in the car and in waiting rooms. I haven't felt pain for 3 hours. Yahoo! I get my scan, we head home. To await the doctor's call. The scan was sent across town in another direction for analysis and then they call the doctor who then calls me.

There is only one stone. It is stopped at a junction. Dang. It's not over. But I am feeling pretty good all things considered. I do a load of laundry, get the kids to bed, grade a set of papers, watch a little tv. And just as I am thinking of going to bed. Wouldn't you know. 1 am. Pain pill. Walk, breathe, walk, breathe, cuss, walk, breathe. Not helping. An hour later. Still not working.

"Sweetie, I'm sorry, I want to die. We have to go again." I feel horrible, why can't this happen at two in the afternoon. Nope 2 am. He gets up, gets dressed, goes next door. I had been chastised for not asking for help. knock, knock. Nothing. Comes home. ring, ring. Nothing. Our neighbors were very tired. Pack up the boys. In the van. Off we go.

Next mistake. Go to the other ER. The one where I have seen the same doctor all three other times. The one where they take a scan. The one where they give me good pain medication that works and makes me very sleepy. The one that at 3 am on Sunday morning is very busy. With the derelicts of society. And everybody else.

As soon as I walk in, they tell me I chose a bad night. I didn't realize how bad. I get into triage. Where they determine that my life is not in imminent danger and put me on the list. My pain is back at an eight. And I feel like I could vomit any moment. I ask if my favorite ER doctor is there. Yes, no, he just left. Damn. The last time I saw him, I was his most frequent customer. I was hoping to add to the tally and keep my status. It was not meant to be.

I head out to the waiting room to wait. And wait. And wait. While listening to repeated vomiting by the person with alcohol poisoning. Listen to the two WWII vets share swap stories. See the guy who fell out of his car because he was not wearing his seatbelt (missed most of the story on that one.). Saw the guy who was in a fight. And on and on for two and a half hours. In the waiting room in massive amounts of pain. Periodically shuffling up to the desk to see if I was any closer to relief. Offering to sit in a wheelchair in the hall if they would just hook me up to a drip.

At one point, I began to hurt where I think my appendix is. I thought, that would be great. Appendicitis and a stone. At least I am in the right place. Maybe. I wonder if that would have moved me up the list?

They felt bad for me. But I don't think I ever got any closer to getting in. Ducky called the other ER, they were not as busy. We decide to go there. There are still six people in front of me. Two and a half hours. In agony in front of total strangers. My sweetP got up about every 10 minutes to come give me a hug, for the entire time. Ducky had sweetE on his lap sleeping most of it. They have me sign a Refusal of Treatment form. I wasn't refusing treatment, I was refusing to wait. I have since been informed by my attorney to never sign those.

We get in the car, and head across town. On the way there, the pain slows. And almost stops. Just take me home. It is almost 6 am. Get home. Put boys to bed. Climb in bed. Sunday morning.

Last installment tomorrow. Drink water.

That lovely picture is microphotography of a Calcium Oxalate kidney stone. Amazing how something that looks that cool can be so painful.