So, would you like to hear about my day? I woke up after not much sleep at the beach with my wonderful friend Lynne and my father ready for some oceanside fun. First thing on the agenda: Clam Chowder. So we drag my dad to Mo's, a local favorite, known for their bread bowls. No sooner did we sit down then I begin to feel a bit of a muscle cramp in my lower left abdomen. Ten minutes or so go by and I try to ignore it and eat my chowder and it does not go away. Then it starts to get worse. I ask my dad for the keys and I go and lay down in the car. It continues to worsen. I'm starting to get scared. Ten more minutes and I am getting light headed. I call my dad from the car and tell him we need to go right now. My first thought was the emergency room, however, I am not so clear about my school insurance so I decide just to go home and lay down. By the time I actually get home and into bed I am bawling from the pain. My dad immediately makes the executive decision, and off to the ER we go. Apparently the hospital is in Idaho, or so it seems from the drive. My dad does not exactly drive like nascar, either. Also, it's a slow and windy mountain road. To top off everything my dad is pointing out sights to Lynne, who is in the backseat with her hands over the top of mine rubbing my shoulders and letting me squeeze hers.
"Hey Lynne, have you ever seen Devil's Lake? The D river is the shortest in the world. "
We finally arrive after what seemed way too long in a town that size and pull in to the hospital. Lynne and I both immediately start to worry because it looks like bad apartments from the 70's. I shit you not, I thought we were in Wimbledon Square. We enter the emergency room, which is empty, and I sit down on bad office furniture. I'm shoeless and my pants are unzipped because I have no sense of modesty at this point. I'm a pretty tough girl, but I was moaning and swearing like a woman in labor. Everyone in this place moved like turtles on vacation. No one comes out to check on me or ask my symptoms, and a guy in line finally has to offer to give up his turn and tells them "hey, this girl seems like she's in a lot of pain".
Eventually I get seen. Ken, the murse comes out and brings me to triage, which consists of a blood pressure machine and a Geriatric chair. He talks to me like I am faking, and he really starts pissing me off. When he gets me up to lead me to a room he has forgotten to take off my blood pressure cuff and I am yanked back by it. I get in my room and put my gown on, anxious for the sweet relief of a bed. Tben I have to get up to give a urine sample.
I finally get to lay down for good, only to have the excruciating pain I have been in become unbareable. Then in walks the only bright spot in this National Lampoon's Emergency Room visit, a wonderful nurse named Valerie. She tries to get me to work on some sort of calming breathing but honestly I can't concentrate long enough to get to the 'out through the mouth'. Slowly but steadily my pain is increasing. When she checks in for the number of my pain level I tell her '11' but she doesn't get the joke. I tried really hard throughout this ordeal to keep cracking jokes because I didn't want to scare my dad and Lynne anymore than the crying already had.
The tests from my urine come back positive for blood (negative for baby!), which immediately reassures them I am not faking and the wheels are speedily set in motion. Everyone immediately begins speculating: kidney stones.
Valerie, who I will be nominating for saint hood quickly starts my IV to get blood and allow for pain meds to be administered. She had intended to wait for the doctor to see me but I think it was apparent I couldn't wait that long. The meds were just in the nick of time because my pain had spiked well into the 20's and, in addition, was beginning to turn into a frightening burning feeling.
Diloted is a beautiful thing. All hail Diloted. Our father who art in heaven, Diloted be thy name. It kicked in so fast I was amazed, but grateful for the subtle burning sensation and feeling of falling. I would have 3 or 4 more doses before I left the hospital, all of them almost made what I was going through worth it. They also pumped me with two full bags of some sort of fluid to hydrate me and encourage me to urinate. Then off to have a CT scan, which is a glorified X-ray where they send your body through a donut.
Keep in mind this was earlier today.
I returned to my room to my faithful friend Lynne waiting patiently to keep me company. Everytime I told her she could leave she insisted that, of course, she was fine and wasn't going anywhere. My dad had gone home a while ago; he doesn't do well with hospitals. It was no big deal, Lynne was there with me and our house was only a few minutes away.
I was honestly scared that they just wouldn't find anything wrong with me.
I was scared for nothing. The nurse returned to my room soon after to report that I, in fact, had multiple kidney stones. Only one was currently giving me trouble though, and it was currently positioned right at the end of my uretur (?), ready to enter my bladder and hopefully be passed. Well the bed I was in was too hard to sleep, believe me I tried, and so I started to bug them about going home. Every 20 minutes or so the Diloted is wearing off enough for me to hurt again, so I was worried about how I would stay comfortable at home without my blessed instant gratification. They prescribed more Diloted, an anti-nausea med, and an anti-inflammatory.
We leave to go pick up the meds, because the Walgreens in Lincoln City is run by Chimpanzees who need longer than an hour. This does not work well for me and I start throwing up. Good thing the nurse packed several barf bags for me.
Is it clear just how bad of shape I was in?
We finally get back to my parents house, I get into bed, and Nurse Schwabe (Lynne) administers my first dose of meds to me. I hunker down, prepared for a several day battle. The idea is for me to stay doped up and drink lots of fluids so I can hang out till I pass it.
I immediately fall dead asleep.
3 hours later I get up for my first bathroom visit since I gave the sample at the hospital. They have given me a catch to put in the toilet and a strainer so I can save the infernal stone for analysis. I do my business, stand up, and look in the strainer, and there is my new friend, all 2 millimeters of him. I'm going to call him George W.
And now I feel fine. I'm still high as a fucking kite, and I plan to have one more round of dope to force me to convalesce a bit more, but for all intents and purposes I think I'm cured.
It is 10 oclock now.
All of that happened in just under 9 hours.
Welcome to the Wonderful World of Amber
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