Eventually, I had no choice but to wake up my wife Andrea. I was loathed to do this as I really thought I should be able to suck it up and get through this. But I could not deny whatever this pain was, it was very intense and quite debilitating. Andrea drove me to the hospital closest to our Fortress of Ineptitude which is called Wesley Long. (And no, I did not score a family discount. By the way, this was my 3rd hospital in 2 months.)
It turned out I had kidney stones which were blocked, the cause of the pain. The stones were quite small and the best solution to them was to let them pass. But there was still the matter of managing my pain.
So doctors and nurses would ask, "On a scale of one to ten with ten being the worst pain you ever felt, how would you rate your pain?"
If I hadn't busted my left elbow the previous month, I would've gladly answered "Ten! TEN, dammit!! Give me drugs now!!!" Instead, through gritted teeth, I said, "Oh, about 9.5 maybe." Even as my thoughts screamed, "Ten! TEN, dammit!! Give me drugs now!!!"
Eventually, the proper level of Percocet was determined to help manage my pain and I was home by noon.
The folks at Wesley Long were as kind and patient as the staff at Brunswick and Cone hospitals. But there was one moment that irked me. While I was still writhing in pain in a hospital bed, an administrative person was in the room asking Andrea if she could cover my co-pay. Then she brought her laptop and credit card scanner into the room to collect said co-pay. I must remind that this is very early on in this process and my pain was still at a "Ten! TEN, dammit!! Give me drugs now!!!" level of intensity.
A follow up with an urologist a week later and the kidney
stone had passed without my knowing about it. Weird.
So anyway, that was one more damn thing to worry about.
Tomorrow: the results of my MRI.
Until next time, remember to be good to one another.
Art by Dave Cockrum |
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