Having just finished recovering from an emergency appendectomy, I found myself this week back in the realm of medical professionals, this time thanks to a kidney stone.
Kidney stones happen when minerals (or some other material) accumulate in the kidney and form little spiky items that block the flow of liquids out of the body. They tend to be small — this particular stone was 3.2 millimeters — and cause an amount of pain far out of proportion to their size. I went to the ER when it began to feel like someone was kicking me with a steel-toed boot every five seconds.
Yesterday I underwent a procedure to get the stone out of me. Basically, the surgeon stuck a little tube up my ureter (YOW) and used a laser to blast the offending rock into smithereens.
Now I’m recovering at home. A heating pad eases the pain in my sore kidney; medications keep me dopey and sleepy. The pill they gave me to deal with pee-pee pain has the odd side effect of turning all my bodily secretions orange. I have been turned into a wobbly Fanta dispenser.
The doc tells me that he can run tests to find out what I should eat/drink in smaller/greater proportions to prevent future renal misadventures. After two surgeries in a seven week period I find myself willing to live on water and saltines if that will keep me out of the hospital until further notice.