Man vs. Kidney Stone

Last week, I experienced a heretofore unknown pain in my lower right abdomen. It started out as nothing big; just some discomfort as if I were getting a bit gassy from the (excellent) meal Melanie had cooked the night before. But then it grew into something entirely different...

*WARNING! The following content includes graphic descriptions*

As the pressure grew, it simply felt as if I needed to use the toilet. Doing so, I noticed the frightening sight of a dark red discoloration in my urine. Knowing that this couldn't be good, I fully expected to book an appointment with the doc after work that day. And then the first real pang hit me, and like a fist fight between the Incredible Hulk and Kristi Yamaguchi, I was dropped in less than a second, rolling around on the floor floating in and out of consciousness.

This was certainly distressing to Melanie and the kids, who were wondering why dad was acting like this. Thanks to Melanie's experience in a hospital, she was able to calmly get everything ready so that we could head to the ER. Since it felt like something was about to explode inside my lower abdomen, we figured my appendix had kicked the bucket and was letting me know that it needed to be removed. I was happy to oblige, so we raced down to the Utah Valley Regional ER and checked in.

Now, many of you close to our family are likely familiar with the Brian Reagan comedy snippet about going to the ER. What really makes his comments funny is how true they are. Unless you are visibly expelling blood from your forehead and are brought in by the ambulance, expect your experience there to be no different than checking in at any run-of-the-mill doctor's office. After squeezing out my information to the receptionist through bullet-sized drops of sweat and clenched teeth, I was sent to the screening doc, who asked me the hallmark question, "How would you rate your pain?" Now, if I weren't about to vomit from the sheer pain of my condition, I might have laughed as I responded, "Eight." It's funny now, but I couldn't laugh then. I was promptly sent to the toilet to get another urine sample. This time, instead of having just a bit of blood, the entire sample looked like a very disgusting glass of dark apple cider diluted with water from the everglades. And then the next pang hit me (I noticed the pattern by this time that peeing resulted in flashes of excruciating and unbearable pain). I proceeded to throw up my Raisin Bran breakfast in the bathroom, and I took note that if one knew he was going to vomit, he should eat raisin bran, for the taste was not nearly as repulsive as one might expect whilst vomiting; I dare say it was actually quite pleasant. Anyway, by now, my 8 had become a 10, and I was sent back to a room where I disrobed and was hooked up to a saline IV. At this point I was sweating profusely and shaking uncontrollably from whatever was killing me from the inside. Happily, Dane and his friend Bryce showed up to administer a much needed blessing. Now, I'm not sure if this was just coincidence or if it was a result of the blessing, but immediately after the blessing, the nurse showed up with a dose of morphine. I'm inclined to think the latter was true. I wish I could accurately describe the effect of the morphine on me, but can't. It was something like a Pink Floyd song. Let's just say that I had been convulsing and puking and wanting to die for two hours, and then within seconds of the morphine hitting my veins, I was calm, happy, and quite at peace. It's a truly wonderful drug.

I said "eight" and I got morphine. Ha!

Well, long story short, they did a CAT scan and found a kidney stone trying to move it's way through my ureters. They say that a man passing a kidney stone is much like a woman giving birth. I'm not sure this is accurate. The birth canal is made to stretch and give room for the baby. Ureters don't stretch at all. Plus, I never got no epidural. Morphine, sure. But no epidural. The doc prescribed some percocet for me and basically said, "take this for the pain, and let it run its course."

After 7 days, it finally ran the course. Here's a pic (with a nickel so that you can get a feel for the size):


I wish I had a dime so that it looked bigger. But hey, think about how small your ureters are in the first place. And they tell me this was just an "average" sized stone.

Now I have to give up soda.