Yesterday I went to the hospital under the belief that I was going to have my huge kidney stone surgically removed. I was under that impression because the three urologists I talked to and every site on the internet I found said that was the appropriate thing to do do in situations like mine.
However, after getting an x-ray the surgeon there said he was not going to perform the surgery, instead he was going to blast the heck out of my kidney with shock waves to break up the stone so I could pass the fragments instead. This whole procedure is called lithotripsy (sorry- I can’t even spell it when I’m not on high levels of pain relief.) And I’ve had it before.
However, I had just spent the previous thirteen days coming to terms with the fact that I was going to have actual surgery on my kidney. Thirteen days in which I cried, prayed, ranted, and eventually came to terms with the whole idea.
To have everything changed so quickly and (might I add) without any consultation with myself, got me sort of…..riled up.
The result is that the surgeon and I will never be what Anne Shirley of Green Gables considers ‘bosom friends.’ Ever, world without end, amen.
But in the end, he is the doctor and I really have no idea about what my kidneys need, so we wound up doing things his way. (Although I fully intend on writing a scathing review of his bedside manner to his office. That will show him.)
The upside? I’m home, without being cut into. I’m on stronger pain meds since I’m going to be passing stone fragments. I got a prescription for this lovely yeast infection that I received thanks to my antibiotics. And I can eat all the saltine crackers I want.
The bad news? The x-ray revealed that there are two more kidney stones in my other kidney, just hanging out, waiting for the perfect moment to wreak havoc on my already crazy life. All of which makes me say bad words. Repeatedly.
So that’s where I stand medically. Because literally, I’m not standing, I’m laying on the couch like a 19th century person suffering from consumption. Much like Ruby Gillis in the Anne of Green Gable series in fact.
(Can you possibly figure out what I’ve been reading lately?)
Because you have been so kind, gentle reader, dealing with my kidney mishaps without complaint I thought I’d throw in a good “Ami-high-on-narcotics” story for you.
Apparently after coming out of the procedure and waking up from the anesthesia, I was offered saltine crackers to nibble on. After munching on a few, I told my husband that saltine crackers are delicious (a sentiment I still stand by.) I then offered him my theory that if all United Nation officials would only eat more saltine crackers the world would become a much better and peaceful place.
What can I say? Even while dealing with personal sickness I am a very civically minded girl.
See you later peeps, I’m out of here. I’ve got some serious reclining on a sofa to do. Until next time, treasure your kidneys (and your saltine crackers.)