Travel Journal Special Entry: No fun, no fun at all…

So, every year I go over to my friend Ron’s house. We listen to my latest music and chat about the current going ons in our lives. It’s something I very much look forward to.

This year, or more specifically…last night…was a night quite different from most…

12 AM
At about midnight or so, I started experience pain in my lower back. At first, I thought I was just sitting funny and maybe had tweaked a muscle.

I said to Ron, “Hmm, this is weird; I don’t remember tweaking it but all of a sudden I have this pain in my lower left side!”

It was a rather casual sense of puzzlement, so for the most part we continued to chat.

But you know, it just wasn’t getting any better. About 5 minutes later, I laid down on my back, thinking “I just needed to stretch the muscles.”

I got up quickly and realized this is now going past minor discomfort and well on its way into PAIN. I couldn’t put my finger on why my pain was growing exponentially–I mean HOLY SHIT I’m in PAIN!!

And then it hit me………

“Oh my God; I’m going to pass a kidney stone.”

BACKSTORY:
About 9 years ago, I passed a kidney stone for the first time. All I can tell you is this:
It is an “invitation only” fraternity that I prefer to have not been invited to. It is by all accounts–Doctors, RN’s, even the MRI Specialist who initially treated me — well, they all say the same thing: “the single most painful thing, naturally, a human can go through.” The MRI Specialist had this to say: “Hon, I’ve had kids and I’ve had kidney stones, and I’d rather have kids.”

I have story told this a thousand times to friends not in the know. Before my first bout all those years ago, I say “i never knew pain before this; only discomfort. THIS IS PAIN.”

Back to the present, 12:15 AM:

This is getting bad and getting bad fast! This pain is so specific and the memories just flooded in acutely making me aware of what I was about to go through (again).

On a scale of 1 to 10, 1 being discomfort (and still much more painful than say a mosquito bite or a cigarette burn) I was about a 6 but moving up fast. Perspective: This kind of pain is exponential; 7 isn’t just one more, 7 is twice as bad as 6.

“Find out where the closest hospital is and take me there now,” I strongly suggested.

My dear friend wasn’t sure where the closest was so I suggested he call 911 and have them find out.

He did, but they recommended they send an Ambulance “in case I pass out or start vomiting from the pain.” Seriously.

Instead they sent the fucking 1st Infantry Division (slight exaggeration): two ambulances and a fire truck. A Fire truck? Give me a god damned break.

Anyway, I explained in detail what was happening to me and how I certainly felt the “extra attention” was unnecessary and over the top.

Perspective: the pain goes in waves, usually fluctuating in 10 to 20 minute increments. It’s much like labor pains; there are “moments of solace” in between (if you can call it that). While they were there I tapered a bit.

They asked if I needed an ambulance, I said “no.” All we needed were directions or an address; that would have sufficed the 1st time.

They suggested the Florida Hospital near the Orlando Science Center. “Maybe 3 miles,” one EMT noted.

We took my mom’s car (Ron drove) and another pronounced wave was coming and coming fast. By the time we were pulling into the hospital it was up to maybe a 7, 7 and half.

1:02 AM
Surprisingly enough, and given that the ER appeared pretty busy, I was checked in quickly, triaged and within maybe 30 minutes had my own room. Prior to that i was in the lobby writhing, screaming, grimmacing while sitting in a wheel chair.

When they found me a room, they told me to put on a hospital gown (“waist down” was as nude as I had to go which was fine given it was fucking freezing in there.)

3 AM
At maybe a hour and half later, I was attended to by a doctor (she VERY kind and to the point) then an RN (just as kind) who got an IV going, and administered “Toradol” (more on this later) and yes, a saline solution drip. This was my very FIRST IV DRIP!

The pain would wane then kick up again. It was acute and extremely consistent. It does not throb; think of it as a steady stream. But my first bout indicated to me what the physical representation of being stabbed must be like. I wish this on NO ONE.

Then, they wheeled me in for a catscan (another first). All in between I’m trying to (apologies: truth approaching) pee through a strainer about every 20 minutes, hoping to catch the little bastard. No luck.

4 AM
About an hour and half goes by, the IV drip completed. Doc comes in and reports:
“Your Bloodwork and urinalysis is fine. Catscan reveals nothing so you may have already passed it. You did have some blood in your urine which indicates the distress caused by the stone. Do you know what pain type we administered to you?”

“Toradol?” I said.

She smiled and said, “yes, and do you know what that is?” “It’s the liquid version of motrin!”

Well get the fuck out! How cool, I replied. “I’ll take whatever you got!”

So, she prescribed 800 mg of Motrin and Vicadin (as needed) in case I have any future flareups, but she feels I should be in the clear.

…
…
She was wrong.

I got home at about 5 in the morning and about a mile from home, I could tell that, yes, “I got another attack on the way.”
Only, THIS time it went all the way up to say, 9.5. I am in my house, my Mom feeling flustered and helpless that she could do nothing. No pharmacies were open for this damned prescription to be filled, and all she had was Motrin 200mg (I took 4).

I was in my bed, at 5:30 in the morning, SCREAMING into a pillow, crying the kind of tears reserved for the loss of a loved one. I curse without considering the consequences. I usually damn the existence of all who exist. It’s an unbelievable, almost EXQUISITE pain. It becomes surreal. This all the while trying to keep quiet as other family members were asleep.

This attack took about 30 minutes. I finally fell asleep and woke up around 11:30 AM EST.
At about 1 PM: another attack. Not as bad; only lasting 15 minutes.

Funny thing is: I have a show tomorrow, and I REALLY want to practice, warm up my voice and such.
But don’t think twice, kids. The show MUST go on. I’ll take my pain meds with me and HOPE I don’t have an attack during the show. OR hope it passes before then. I will NOT MISS THIS SHOW.

Sorry for the long journal entry, but I figured some would enjoy the details in a rather macabre way. Please pray for this little bugger to ignore me from, say the hours of 8 pm and 10 pm, on Thursday December 23rd.

I’ll keep you posted.
C
?