Visit Canceled

How to cancel a visit from the parents in two easy steps.

1. Go to the Emergency Room at 11:30 pm on the night before they come.

2. Next morning, have hubby call parents and tell them they can't come.

Thursday night is moving right along. We get the kiddos into bed. I head off to Target to buy toilet paper and whatever other goodies I can find. That store is dangerous. Within five minutes of getting home, I start feeling not so good. I go into denial. It cannot be the most painful thing I have ever experienced. Not again. And no, I don't mean childbirth. Both of mine were c-sections anyway.

So I putter around. I get in pj's. I tell Ducky I'll be up in a little bit. I call the advice nurse. Advice nurse advises I head to ER. Because I can no longer sit still, stand still or talk without whimpering.

"Honey, you need to take me to the ER." Grumble, grumble. He gets the boys up. Drags them down to the car. Tucks them in. Meanwhile, I losing my dinner. Grab the blah bucket, let's go.

Whimper, whine, breathe, whimper, moan. We get there, I get out and stagger in to the check in desk. Both arms are tingling and I am faint, white as a ghost, and shaking. And then I see the sign that asks for photo ID. I did not bring photo id. I brought my medical card, my list of medicines and dosages (thanks RC), and me. That is all I brought.

This is my fourth trip to an ER in my entire life. And a different ER. And this one does not impress me. I, however, am as polite as can be. While the front desk people, that never stop reclining, slowly enter my info and are just about to ask me to go sit and wait, the lovely triage nurse sees how I am suffering and swoops in to save me. She takes me right back and gets my vitals. New fact for the day. My pulse go down when I am in pain. I have never seen my pulse be that low. 74 to my usual 100-110 bpm. No wonder my arms are tingly and I am light headed.

And can you believe I had to go all the way back out into the waiting room to give a urine sample. They didn't have a stinkin' bathroom in the back. I leave my coat with the family and go to head back, nope, have a seat. Remember I cannot sit or stand still. And I am so white, that I think I have gone transparent.

Finally. A room. I get introduced to my new best friend. Christine. Still being very polite, I am given a gown and a heated blanket. And am left to change. That damn gown had snaps and they hadn't been snapped. Do you have any idea how hard it is to snap together a gown when your pain level is an 8 or 9? So I am suited up, ready for an IV and pain meds. Please hurry with the pain meds. While I wait, I realize that I am going to be sick. Not realizing there is a toilet on the other side of the door, I lose the remainder of my dinner into the sink. Now the rooms stinks. Badly.

"Hello Dr., so sorry about the smell." I literally meet the doctor by apologizing. For the remainder of my stay, my door is open to help the smell. The doctor asks what the problem is.

"Well, I seem to have a kidney stone."

"Oh, have you had them before."

"Yes, twice."

"What do they usually do for you."

"Pain meds, nausea meds, fluids. And then they send me home with Percocet."

"Sounds good. We'll get started with some Morphine, Zofran, something else I had never heard of and a bag of fluids."

To Be Continued when I stop hurting.