They sound so friendly. Like a children's game. "Hey Tommy, you wanna come over and play kidney stones? Mom says we can have lemonade and graham crackers!"
Last night, after walking our diabetic dog so that he doesn't wake up 3 times overnight to run outside and empty 1/3rd of his bladder, The Good Doctor says he feels a sharp pain in his right lower back. Creeping toward the front of his body. Nausea, and just sudden malaise. We are in bed, and he feels H to the orrible. We rule out food poisoning because we had the same dinner and I just have garden variety prego heartburn. It doesn't get better. He self diagnoses: kidney stones or his appendix. Neither of which involve me rolling over on my left side and going to sleep, so we decide the only option is the emergency room.
I have often implored The Good Doctor to pioneer a "Take your wife to work day" because I would love to see him in action, interacting with patients and colleagues. And dealing with needles every single day. But turn a needle toward him, and he goes pale.
The CT scan confirmed he has not one, but THREE kidney stones, 2 of which are GINORMOUS. Which, for a kidney stone, means 5-6 millimeters. This does not surprise me. He is in the operating room for long hours and some days he will come home at 7PM and say, "This is the second time I'm peeing today." It is not a badge of honor, mister.
Now a camera has to go where no man wants a camera to go. Then the doctor will use shock waves to bust up the stones until they become tiny enough to exit on their own. Please send your happiest and healthiest thoughts to my hubster for a fast and complication free procedure Monday.
We will be auctioning stone fragments on eBay to raise funds for Emmy's college education.