United States
In another thread, WBL seemed surprised when I said I'd played with a kidney stone. I'll retell the story.
September 2004 was my last stone. I've been cut open for one. Had one, the 2004 stone, blown up. Have passed another eight. If you'd ever had a stone, passing one is just like trying to pee a sandbur.
Had the 2004 one hit on a Friday morning. Wife took me to the ER. Got some "wonderful" drugs to numb the pain. The urologist inserted a stent... a plastic tube... between the kidney and bladder. Said the ultrasound machine wouldn't be in town until the following Wednesday. The inserted tube would reduce the agitation as the stone tried to pass.
Doped up with all kinds of pain medicine... stent in place between kidney and bladder... peeing some blood, now and then... met the guys for our regular Saturday morning tee time. Don't remember much of the round. They said I almost passed out, but shot one of the best rounds they'd seen me shoot.
Home, waited until the following Wednesday. Reported to the outpatient clinic and had the stone 'blown up' by the ultrasound machine. Pain gone.
Doc said he left the tube in between the kidney and bladder so the stone particles would pass without agitation. Told me to come to his office in another week and he would remove the stent. Went to his office as planned. When called in, he had me lay down on the table. Nothing for pain. Told me to grab hold of the side rails. He took a "flashlight"... I swear it had 'D' cell batteries... and started a spelunking trip up the tunnel where nothing should ever go "in". Got the light up inside the bladder and began searching for the end of the plastic tube. Oh... the flashlight had a set of Vise Grips... they sure felt like it... on the end. He finally found the end of the tube and got the Vise Grips clamped down on it. His fat, obese, overweight, ugly... I hate her so much I could pick her out of a line up 10 years later... layed her fat gut across my feet so I couldn't kick the doc right where he was inflicting so much pain on me. Then, the fat witch had the nerve to say... "Hold on. This may hurt a little!" Lady!! Your employer already has a flashlight and a pair of pliers shoved up through the end of my manhood. Now... NOW you say it might begin hurting a little?? About that time, the doc began pulling the plastic tube out of my body... through an orfice that is designed by the Good Lord to only pass an extremely dilute form of liquid. I don't know how far it is from the bladder to the kidney, but it seemed as if he was pulling a 50 FT garden hose outta there. Tube removed. I'm about halfway done explaining to the doctor how I'm going to kill him, his kids, his grandkids, his great grandkids... when the fat nurse has the gall to say, "See, that wasn't too bad, now was it!" I don't believe there's a male judge in the world who would have convicted me of homicide if I had strangled her that day!!!!!
September 2004 was my last stone. I've been cut open for one. Had one, the 2004 stone, blown up. Have passed another eight. If you'd ever had a stone, passing one is just like trying to pee a sandbur.
Had the 2004 one hit on a Friday morning. Wife took me to the ER. Got some "wonderful" drugs to numb the pain. The urologist inserted a stent... a plastic tube... between the kidney and bladder. Said the ultrasound machine wouldn't be in town until the following Wednesday. The inserted tube would reduce the agitation as the stone tried to pass.
Doped up with all kinds of pain medicine... stent in place between kidney and bladder... peeing some blood, now and then... met the guys for our regular Saturday morning tee time. Don't remember much of the round. They said I almost passed out, but shot one of the best rounds they'd seen me shoot.
Home, waited until the following Wednesday. Reported to the outpatient clinic and had the stone 'blown up' by the ultrasound machine. Pain gone.
Doc said he left the tube in between the kidney and bladder so the stone particles would pass without agitation. Told me to come to his office in another week and he would remove the stent. Went to his office as planned. When called in, he had me lay down on the table. Nothing for pain. Told me to grab hold of the side rails. He took a "flashlight"... I swear it had 'D' cell batteries... and started a spelunking trip up the tunnel where nothing should ever go "in". Got the light up inside the bladder and began searching for the end of the plastic tube. Oh... the flashlight had a set of Vise Grips... they sure felt like it... on the end. He finally found the end of the tube and got the Vise Grips clamped down on it. His fat, obese, overweight, ugly... I hate her so much I could pick her out of a line up 10 years later... layed her fat gut across my feet so I couldn't kick the doc right where he was inflicting so much pain on me. Then, the fat witch had the nerve to say... "Hold on. This may hurt a little!" Lady!! Your employer already has a flashlight and a pair of pliers shoved up through the end of my manhood. Now... NOW you say it might begin hurting a little?? About that time, the doc began pulling the plastic tube out of my body... through an orfice that is designed by the Good Lord to only pass an extremely dilute form of liquid. I don't know how far it is from the bladder to the kidney, but it seemed as if he was pulling a 50 FT garden hose outta there. Tube removed. I'm about halfway done explaining to the doctor how I'm going to kill him, his kids, his grandkids, his great grandkids... when the fat nurse has the gall to say, "See, that wasn't too bad, now was it!" I don't believe there's a male judge in the world who would have convicted me of homicide if I had strangled her that day!!!!!
