Sunday, February 17, 2008

It's Like Being Smacked In the Kidney 3000 times

Bart always lovingly tells me that I constantly try to "one up" him. He does with kindness and teasing, but there is a level of truth in that statement. There is something about him that makes me want to constantly beat him or outsmart him. It is like a friendly competition. (Some of this does come from the fact that I know Bart likes smart girls!!)

So with this thought in mind, it is only fitting that I tell you about my kidney stones. Now, this will NOT include the process of passing a stone, but what led up to it. So rest assured, no grossness here!!!

We celebrated Bart's 30th birthday (in 2005) with a big party at our place in Tulsa. We had a great time. I made his cake for him, we watched a DVD slideshow of pictures from his life and enjoyed the time with friends and family. We went to bed that night tired and happy. The next morning I woke up early in the morning feeling like I was going to be sick. After time spent kneeling (we all have been there) I went back to bed. Once at the edge of the bed, a weird sensation happened and I collapsed into the fetal position. After crying and getting Bart awake, we decided we better go to the hospital. At this point, I don't know what is going on with me, all I know is that it hurts.

We get to the window to do all the check in stuff. Now, Bart was not given a lot of time to get ready so he had on pj pants and he forgot a book (that should tell all of you who know Bart well how freaked out he was). As we sit at the window, I am in intense pain. About every two minutes I continually cry out in pain and begin to pull on Bart's pants, who is fighting against me to keep his pants pulled up and give my info to the girl. This girl behind the counter was the worst person I have EVER encountered in life, and if I should meet up with her again in life, Beware lady - I have your face memorized in my brain. As I am struggling through my pain, she begins to say, "I bet you have a kidney stone, They really hurt, You are really acting like a kidney stone is passing, Oops, she is pulling down your pants". After a look at Bart that said exactly what I planned to say and do, he interceded and continued the registration process.

They got me back fast. I refused pain medicine but they insisted. I was out of my mind, because as soon as they got the meds into my veins, the world was a wonderful place. For three hours we waited in the ER room to find out I was passing a stone. I had to go to my Urologist (who was a beautiful, beautiful man) for X-rays in the weeks following our ER adventure. Come to find out I had several stones. I had to have a procedure done which my urologist said is "like being smacked in the kidney 3000 times". WHAT? Was that supposed to make me relax? "Oh, ok, great, because if you were about to say 3001 times I was going to run out of here." It was some kind of sonic procedure that looked like a ball. I laid on top of it and it sent sonar waves or something like that , to break up the stones. Thankfully you are put under during this procedure.

Some highlights from this whole experience:
  • Bart and mom got to watch me sit up, throw up, drink cranberry juice, lay down, fall asleep, sit up, throw up, drink cranberry juice, lay down, fall asleep for about 4 hours after the procedure. Lucky people!!
  • I disgustingly learned that some individuals keep their stones and make earrings and rings out of them.
  • I had the misfortune of nerves before the procedure and responded inappropriately to my doctor when asked "How do you feel today?". My response, "I don't have any underwear on" Note to self: Consider what you are going to say before you open your mouth.
  • I spent my time recooperating after a sewage outbreak at our apartment (that story to come soon)
  • When Bart met my doctor, his first comment to my mom was, "He isn't that good looking"

Good times. So it would appear that I once again "out did" Bart. This one was not intentional I can say with all honesty. I would have preferred the whole weekend to be about him. The one thing I learned out of this whole situation is: Bart loves me a whole bunch and his concern for me trumped remembering to grab a book. He REALLY loves me.

No comments: