Kidney Stone: Hurry up and Wait

Today saw the final removal of the stent that was in my ureter. That's the short of it.

The long of it was the hour long wait that happened before each phase of the journey, plus an additional fun jaunt through the hospital so I could deliver my precious cargo (f'er #1).

My parents were enlisted to help me get to where I needed to go today because JoDee was teaching during my appointment. The doctor asked me to go and get an X-ray prior to seeing him, so I was under the assumption that the script was faxed and ready to go before my arrival. Ha ha. A quick call to the doctor's office, and then to the radiologist confirmed that the script was probably still on a pad of paper in the doctor's office, and not in the hot little hands of those-who-could-irradiate-me. After a few phone calls, though, the hospital and the radiologist had the script, and I was on my merry way.

My parents showed up a little before 11am, and around 11:15am we were able to go to the radiologist's waiting room. Minutes pass. A half hour passes. The waiting room begins to fill up, and folks are escorted out to their respective diagnostic equipment. More time passes. After around an hour, the front office realizes that they've lost my order, and let me know as much. After their realization, I got my X-ray, and was on my merry way.

We caught a quick lunch at The Country Inn, and then raced home so I could present the doctor with my prize (f'er #1). We then raced to the urologists' office, and (after the requisite paperwork of "no, I don't do drugs, nor do I have a telephone pole painfully hanging out of my ass" form filling), we sat down and proceeded to once again wait for something to happen. Time passes. Rather than the loose time-frame of "sometime before your visit", I had an "appointment" for 1:45pm, so I figured that I'd be whisked away to stent-removing paradise, and be out of there at least before 2:30pm. Time passes. A half-hour goes by. Rather than taking my chances again with having my presence go unnoticed, I sauntered up and asked if I was still in the queue. Yes, there's four doctors here, and my doctor is busy with other patients, please wait. Time passes. Finally, I managed to get in and see the doctor.

I won't detail the procedure, suffice to say that I opted not to have the local anesthetic like a big boy. After all, 30 seconds of "feeling like you need to pee" is quite alright with me. About 10 seconds in, I wondered if that was wise after all, but before I knew it, the magic trick was over, and the stent was presented. I felt like a proud father.

The doctor didn't, however, take my stone, and instead issued me a script to take it back to the hospital to have it examined. Yay. So, I was one again sitting across from someone telling them my particulars (which I assured her, hadn't changed since I last sat across from someone telling them my particulars, assuring them that they hadn't changed from the few weeks back when I sat across from someone telling them my particulars, assuring them that they hadn't changed since ...)

Fortunately, the metabolic technician, on observing that I had the sample in hand instead of inside some cavity yet to be explored, happily took the sample (marked "One Blasted Kidney Stone" in a 1 qt freezer bag) and sent me on my merry way.

There will still be more tests and such to see why I'm so fertile with kidney stones, but the feeling of being finally done with the ordeal that I had been through; the feeling that I could once again lead my life, and bring in groceries, and finally open up the bottle of wine that JoDee and I bought for our anniversary on May 17th, and the feeling that I didn't have the possibility of something slipping in ureter-ville, sending me into a low-Earth pain orbit is a complete relief. I was able to lead a life with the stent in me, but it wasn't "normal". There was always a reminder that I was sick; that I could at any time have to down my weight in Darvocet, or have to rush to the hospital. The feeling now that I can be "normal" again is a relief.

I actually clicked my heels together in Meijer.