Feb
09

Stoned Love.

I am reasonably certain that I passed my kidney stone last night. “Reasonably certain” because I did not actually catch the stone in my cup. I peed into my tiny, inadequate strainer. I felt a searing pain, as I had every time I’d used the bathroom for the previous hour. I looked into the strainer and saw nothing.
However, whilst wiping my undercarriage with a piece of tissue, I discovered a small rock. It looked like a kidney stone. It was the right size for a kidney stone. But as I explained to the Actually, my mother, and a doctor, it could have been a piece of gravel that somehow found its way into my pants. But no one seems to find that explanation plausible, (“How on earth would gravel have gotten into your pants?” asked my mother), and the pain seems to have gone, except for some lingering soreness, so as I said, I am reasonably certain that it is finally over.
For now. At my appointment this morning the doctor looked at the stone, congratulated me heartily, and then breezily informed me that my CT from last week had shown another small stone in my kidney, a stone that would likely make its way out sometime between today and my death from old age. Dr. Damocles then gave me a referral to a urologist and sent me on my way.

The Actually and I went out for lunch to celebrate, and as I chewed my patty melt the Actually said:
“You know, last night I was trying to decide if I’d leave you if your stone hit a nerve and left you paralyzed, like Stephen Hawking.”
“What nerve exactly, in my urinary tract, would completely paralyze me?”
“The Stephen Hawking nerve,” the Actually replied, stealing a fry from my plate.
“Ah. And what did you decide?”
He shook his head mournfully, “I never did make up my mind.”
“How sweet.”
“Well, what kind of life would I have as your caretaker?” He switched to a computer voice: “‘Bring me some cheese,’” he droned, “‘Lift me from my chair and make love to my limp body.’”
“You flatter yourself.”
“Ooh, snap.”
We are going to be such a delightful married couple.

Speaking of which, wedding planning is back in full swing, as it seems to somehow be February, which, sources tell me, is to be followed this year closely by March, which can only lead to April, which will inevitably give way to May, the month of my wedding. Gulp.

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