Congratulations! It's a kidney stone Part II

I had the misfortune of riding in a lead funeral car recently with three (myself included) survivors of kidney stones. In some ways it felt like 10 year old boys telling lies about whose ball went farther, whose throw was hardest, whose running was the fastest.

There is room for competition in kidney stones, and perhaps, just perhaps because it helps us feel better it is good therapy. "Now what," you may ask, "can three men riding in a funeral car find to compete about related to the passing of kidney stones?" Well, actually there is quite a lot for such a short trip.

First, there is the pain at onset. Everyone agreed that theirs was the worst. "I was on the floor in 5 seconds curled up in a ball." "I was down in three and it took a crow bar to get me untied." "Well, I was dropped like a deer shot through the eyes. The pain was so bad, it took two trucks and their strongest chains to get me straightened out again."

Then there was the waiting room. "Well, I was there for two hours before I ever got to see a doctor. I was doubled over in pain all the while. It was horrible." "Two hours, why I was there through two shift changes. I spent most of my time either throwing up or passing blood, and curled up in pain like a pretzel." (For the record, I have tried to reproduce that position but I guess you have to be passing a kidney stone to contort the human body into such a position) "Not me, I was in the waiting room so long, security served me with a notice of eviction, thinking I was homeless!"

Then, we talked about the stupidest thing said to us by a hospital employee. "Well, after I had been in intractable pain for three hours, the triage nurse asked me if I knew my blood pressure was up a little?" "That's nothing, my triage nurse told me that since there was no running blood or chest pains, my intractable pain was not sufficient reason for me to be put to the front of the line. I asked her, in quite reserved tones I thought, 'Your blood or mine?'" She called security! The third one said, "Well, I didn't have any problem at all, I just walked in and they put me in a room." At that point, I suggested whatever part this person had at the graveside service, I would take it and we could leave them on the side of the road. When the person pointed out they were the funeral director and owned the car, I calmed down.

We all had the same experience behind the locked doors: slow motion nurses, doctors, technicians and of course, the myriad of tests. I believe there is a ratio of necessary tests in direct proportion to the quality of your insurance.

People with no insurance get the once over by the nurse with the diagnosis: "Yep, you got a kidney stone. There's nothing you can afford to have done. We'll give you a water shot and send you home!" "Will the water shot help?" "Well, honey, do you want it to help?" "Well, yea, right now I would take anything to make the pain go away!" "Well, Darling, this shot will help!"

If you have great insurance, they have to make absolutely sure of the diagnosis. Even though this is your 7th time to the trauma center with similar symptoms. One keeps hearing, "We just need to make absolutely sure!" "When you say, I just don't understand why I have to have an MRI of my brain when its hurting way, way lower in my body?" To which one always gets the inevitable, "Are you a doctor?" And then they say that again, "We just want to make sure!" "Sure that I have a stone?" "No darling, sure that we have drained your insurance. You don't think they give this great care away do you?"

Then there is the pain medicine after they are sure you have a stone. "Well, it took quite a bit of morphine to ease my pain!" "I had to have morphine and Demerol to finally ease my pain." "Why, they brought in a tranquilizer gun from the zoo for crazy bull elephants to give me. It helped a little. They tried a second shot and hit the big, sassy nurse, took her down--well, like a bull elephant--yea right to the floor! Suddenly employees appeared from nowhere, moving at lightening speeds with pillows and blankets to make Sassy comfortable. They pushed me off the gurney, took my sheets and 12 employees lifted her to where I had been laying.I had enough tranquilizer in me that I just curled up in the corner and felt better. I do remember looking up through blurry eyes watching everyone pat her hands and face and bring her warm blankets."

And then there is the treatment. "They went in and got mine!"(Collective ohhhh!) "I was blasted, and then got to pass the little bitty grass burrs."(another collective uhhhh!) "Well, they wanted to take a garden hose and put it up you-know-what and run it up you-know-where so that it would theoretically make the stone easier to pass. I told my doctor, I will undergo this procedure if he would. We quickly talked of other options."

Yep, there wasn't a sandlot present, but we all felt better when we reached the cemetery. At least we weren't riding horizontal in the hearse behind us!