If you're ever sitting around bored and you start thinking "Gee, I should try having a kidney stone. I've never had kidney stones before and I live on the edge and stuff..." Let me be the first to tell you that this is a fairly bad idea.
I spent all of last Wednesday alone in a hospital bed. Wait, that's a lie. I spent part of it on the floor of the emergency waiting room. Since then it's been nothing but Rock(tearing-through-my-urethra)-and-Roll Fun Times!!!! The good news is that I'm now on vicodin. The bad news is that there will soon be a crystal the size of a vicodin pill bursting out of my genitalia.
So I woke up Wednesday with a stabbing pain in my right flank. I tried popping my back... this didn't help. I tried standing up... this didn't help either in that it hurt so bad it caused me to vomit. So cut to the bathroom... I'm having a merry old time with my head in the toilet when I start having this annoying little problem where I can't breathe. You know that feeling you get when someone is stabbing your lower back repeatedly with a screwdriver while you're puking and then a plastic bag is put over your head so you can't get any air after each convulsion? It was kind of like that. So after a few minutes of this I started feeling slightly better... I began walking around the house and this seemed to relieve my back pain a bit. I thought "Hey, maybe I'll just walk it off!" I soon figured out that it wasn't the walking that was helping but that the pain just travelled in waves... waves that get stronger and stronger each time until you are eventually in the middle of a hurricane of penis-agony (I have just copyrighted "hurricane of penis-agony" so all you new bands out there looking for names can screw off).
So after the third wave I start to really freak out. I thought it might be Lyme disease as I had recently been bitten by a tick during my popsicle adventure with Stephanie. I was afraid to drive because with each attack I came closer to passing out so I called an ambulance. The EMT was pretty certain I did not have Lyme disease and suggested Kidney Stones. She was right. But I wouldn't know this for sure for many more hours. Right now it still felt more like someone was digging around in my back with a pickaxe... rather than crushing my testicles in a vice... which was to come.. but let's not get ahead of ourselves. So by the time I arrive at the emergency room the pain is beyond anything I can feasibly describe with words. Pain is just one of those things that is sort of unconveyable. Needless to say it was the most horrible physical thing I have ever experienced... and I've experienced a good deal of physical abuse. I've had broken bones and some pretty messed up encounters with knives and coathangers and lit cigarettes and syringes and what-have-you. This was just on a whole different plane of torment. I spent approximately 45 minutes in the waiting room. I was shaking too badly to fill out the forms so they had a nurse write the info I dictated. For the first twenty minutes I tried to behave reasonably. There were several others waiting and I was embarrassed and didn't want to disturb them. I sat in my chair and breathed loudly through my teeth. I sounded like a quiet train. Huff-puff-huff-puff-wooowooo. I had a bag that I would throw up in each time another wave took over. I'd estimate I vomited about 20 times... and I had yet to eat so it was nothing but bile. By the end of my wait the pain had escalated to the point where I lost all concern for pleasantries. I'm quite sure I was terrifying the other people. I didn't care anymore. I would do anything that seemed like it was relieving even the tiniest fraction of what I was feeling. This included: Darting about the room; Lots of screaming; Rolling around on the floor; Climbing on all fours across the chairs and stretching myself various positions; Clutching tables and shaking them violently; Staring into space and shaking my head a la Stevie Wonder; etc; etc... Eventually I was given a bed. There would still be about 20 minutes before I would be medicated. This was actually the peak of my physical pain, but it didn't seem quite as bad because I was off in a corner by myself and could thrash about and wail to my heart's content without freaking people out.
The doctor came and said I looked uncomfortable. I laughed. Then I screamed because laughing hurt so bad. Then I threw up because hurting so bad made my body convulse. Which was funny. And made me laugh again... sigh.
Then sweet valium.
I don't remember much for several hours. I know I was wheeled into a room and given an MRI. I know I heard a voice telling me to "breathe in... hold your breath." And I remember not being able to tell if it was a doctor or a robot instructing me to do this. I remember telling myself not to respond out loud because I didn't want to look like an idiot talking to a robot. Apparently I said that aloud though because the doctor told me later on that I was mumbling something about "not wanting to look like an idiot talking to a robot"... so great. Mission accomplished. No fucking robot is gonna make me look like an idiot!!!
Anyway... afterwards I received a brief lesson on kidney stones and what to look forward to. I was told it's the most painful condition a male can encounter. So kick ass! I am so totally a man now. I'm eagerly anticipating the final stage to my rite of passage. I'll be sure to let everyone know how it goes... in unbearably graphic detail.
I spent all of last Wednesday alone in a hospital bed. Wait, that's a lie. I spent part of it on the floor of the emergency waiting room. Since then it's been nothing but Rock(tearing-through-my-urethra)-and-Roll Fun Times!!!! The good news is that I'm now on vicodin. The bad news is that there will soon be a crystal the size of a vicodin pill bursting out of my genitalia.
So I woke up Wednesday with a stabbing pain in my right flank. I tried popping my back... this didn't help. I tried standing up... this didn't help either in that it hurt so bad it caused me to vomit. So cut to the bathroom... I'm having a merry old time with my head in the toilet when I start having this annoying little problem where I can't breathe. You know that feeling you get when someone is stabbing your lower back repeatedly with a screwdriver while you're puking and then a plastic bag is put over your head so you can't get any air after each convulsion? It was kind of like that. So after a few minutes of this I started feeling slightly better... I began walking around the house and this seemed to relieve my back pain a bit. I thought "Hey, maybe I'll just walk it off!" I soon figured out that it wasn't the walking that was helping but that the pain just travelled in waves... waves that get stronger and stronger each time until you are eventually in the middle of a hurricane of penis-agony (I have just copyrighted "hurricane of penis-agony" so all you new bands out there looking for names can screw off).
So after the third wave I start to really freak out. I thought it might be Lyme disease as I had recently been bitten by a tick during my popsicle adventure with Stephanie. I was afraid to drive because with each attack I came closer to passing out so I called an ambulance. The EMT was pretty certain I did not have Lyme disease and suggested Kidney Stones. She was right. But I wouldn't know this for sure for many more hours. Right now it still felt more like someone was digging around in my back with a pickaxe... rather than crushing my testicles in a vice... which was to come.. but let's not get ahead of ourselves. So by the time I arrive at the emergency room the pain is beyond anything I can feasibly describe with words. Pain is just one of those things that is sort of unconveyable. Needless to say it was the most horrible physical thing I have ever experienced... and I've experienced a good deal of physical abuse. I've had broken bones and some pretty messed up encounters with knives and coathangers and lit cigarettes and syringes and what-have-you. This was just on a whole different plane of torment. I spent approximately 45 minutes in the waiting room. I was shaking too badly to fill out the forms so they had a nurse write the info I dictated. For the first twenty minutes I tried to behave reasonably. There were several others waiting and I was embarrassed and didn't want to disturb them. I sat in my chair and breathed loudly through my teeth. I sounded like a quiet train. Huff-puff-huff-puff-wooowooo. I had a bag that I would throw up in each time another wave took over. I'd estimate I vomited about 20 times... and I had yet to eat so it was nothing but bile. By the end of my wait the pain had escalated to the point where I lost all concern for pleasantries. I'm quite sure I was terrifying the other people. I didn't care anymore. I would do anything that seemed like it was relieving even the tiniest fraction of what I was feeling. This included: Darting about the room; Lots of screaming; Rolling around on the floor; Climbing on all fours across the chairs and stretching myself various positions; Clutching tables and shaking them violently; Staring into space and shaking my head a la Stevie Wonder; etc; etc... Eventually I was given a bed. There would still be about 20 minutes before I would be medicated. This was actually the peak of my physical pain, but it didn't seem quite as bad because I was off in a corner by myself and could thrash about and wail to my heart's content without freaking people out.
The doctor came and said I looked uncomfortable. I laughed. Then I screamed because laughing hurt so bad. Then I threw up because hurting so bad made my body convulse. Which was funny. And made me laugh again... sigh.
Then sweet valium.
I don't remember much for several hours. I know I was wheeled into a room and given an MRI. I know I heard a voice telling me to "breathe in... hold your breath." And I remember not being able to tell if it was a doctor or a robot instructing me to do this. I remember telling myself not to respond out loud because I didn't want to look like an idiot talking to a robot. Apparently I said that aloud though because the doctor told me later on that I was mumbling something about "not wanting to look like an idiot talking to a robot"... so great. Mission accomplished. No fucking robot is gonna make me look like an idiot!!!
Anyway... afterwards I received a brief lesson on kidney stones and what to look forward to. I was told it's the most painful condition a male can encounter. So kick ass! I am so totally a man now. I'm eagerly anticipating the final stage to my rite of passage. I'll be sure to let everyone know how it goes... in unbearably graphic detail.
timore:
Since you were obviously trying to make the story of a horrid event seem humorous, I guess I can tell you I laughed my ass off when reading that. I've heard from a friend that experienced both that kidney stones are worse than giving birth, but who knows. If I had been in the ER waiting room feeling shitty, I can assure you that seeing someone crawl across chairs and whatnot would probably make me feel better, or wonder what drugs they were on. In any case, I hope you feel better 