Feb
02

I hope bad things don’t really come in threes…

A few days ago I started having some…pain. Mostly in my back, but also in the groin-al area. I assumed it was somehow related to my Lady Parts and the recent miscarriage. Because surely, there is some sort of limit on the number of medical catastrophes that can occur in a two week period.

Well, here I sit, dosed liberally with Vicodin–just like my beloved Dr. House–and gazing at the strainer I will be peeing into.

There is nothing like a kidney stone to add color to a gray winter Friday. The red of blood, the orange of prescription bottles, the bright, cheery yellow of urine.
This is my second kidney stone; I had my first at seventeen. Two kidney stones and an ulcer under my belt, and I am only twenty-seven. I think I should start wearing suspenders and a porkpie hat.

This morning I had bloodwork, a CT and a horrifying encounter with a catheter. Two people were required to catheterize me, because of my “petite anatomy.” In other words, they couldn’t find the goddamn hole. A student was there to observe and remarked how it was “good she got to see this,” because I am basically child-sized. I prefer “fun sized,” but the Actually prefers to compare me to a hamster, what with my tiny, tiny parts.
“I am a delicate flower,” I said huffily.
“A delicate hamster,” he corrected me. He is so supportive. While I writhed with pain in the front seat on the way home, he reminded me that both he and his sister weighed ten pounds at birth.
“You can just shut up,” I told him, my hand massaging my kidney.

So that is what I have been up to—how about you?

By Alexa | Posted in Ceci N'est Pas Une Ecrivaine |