Thursday, November 25, 2010

Kidney Stones are made from secrets. And embarassment.

If you've ever wondered what Kidney Stones are made from, it is 1/4 Secrets, and 3/4 embarassment.

Last weekend, my baby brother was coming to town. We had schemed and planned and plotted, all the while keeping my mom in the dark about it. He was supposed to arrive at my house around 430 on Sunday, so of course and hour before that the kidneys decided they were going to act up.

330pm Sunday: Sharp, sudden pain in my kidneys. Oh HECK no! I breathe through it, pacing back and forth in my room like a pregnant woman in labor. Nope, not the kidneys. Not today. This is just some weird flukey cramp.

430pm Sunday: .Brother arrives. Mamma is totally surprised. Brother and sister scheming totally worked. Let the awesomeness commence. Home cooking. Looking through old photos. Bizarre inside family jokes centered around Labyrinth and Predator commence.

730pm Sunday: Boyfriend arrives to meet brother for the first time. I'm trying to hide how much pain I am in, and all I desperately want to do is lay down on the sofa. At which point, Brother and Boyfriend decide they are now BFF's and are going to have The Farting Contest of All Farting Contests on the sofa I'm trying to lay down on. Thanks, boys. Really.

Monday: Brother stuck around for breakfast, then left in the afternoon. By the time he hit the road, and by the time Mamma C headed to work, the kidneys were in full outrage. I can pretty much hear them screaming at me by this point. How dare you ignore us for a full 24 hours! You will pay, Host Body. You will pay!

3:30 Monday: Things were bad now. Kidneys were contracting hard core. Had to call Boyfriend to drive me to the E.R.

(Now, I've had kidney issues for 10 years, but this is the first time Boyfriend has experienced it with me.) We get to the ER. Things are feeling really bad. They finally take me from the waiting are to a stretcher in the ER. A male nurse hands me a hospital gown, and says he will be back in a minute once I am undressed.


Doubled-over in pain. Delirious from the 24 straight hours of kidney contractions. And now Boyfriend gets to see me in a hospital "gown".

THIS is a gown...

THIS is not....

Also, since I was entrenched in my No Shave November-ness, I had 22 days worth of glorious growth on my legs. Nothing says "hot" like hairy legs, black ankle socks, and a hospital gown big enough to contain Chris Farley.

"You know, other people have worn these gowns. Sick people wear them, then the hospital washes them and gives them to other patients."

Boyfriend: I know.

"They die in them, too. Someone has probably died in this thing."

Boyfriend: Yes. Probably.

"Hurry up and pull that sheet over my legs so you can't see my fur."

I was totally the sexiest he had ever seen me. I thought things could not get any hotter.

I was wrong.

Urine sample time.

I peed in the cup, passed a kidney stone in the process, and twisted the lid back on the sample. I tried desperately to wrap some papertowels around the cup of pee, trying to hide the contents from view, to no avail. Those hospital paper towels are made from cardboard. Hobbling out of the bathroom back onto the stretcher, I plop the urine sample down on the table.

Don't look at that.

Boyfriend: What is it?

My pee. Just don't look at it.

Boyfriend: You're crazy.

You've already seen my blood (thank you, Wisdom Teeth). And my vomit (on the first date, nonetheless). This is the one thing I have left. Please.

Boyfriend: Okay weirdo.

Then the I.V. of Dilauded pain medicine came. And all the sudden the pain went away. And the worrying about anyone seeing my fur or my pee went away. And one of the last thoughts I remember before they wheeled me down to the CAT Scan was simply this...

I'm glad he's here. Holding my hand through the bars of the stretcher. Not caring about my pee or my leg fur. Just caring about me.

So with one less kidney stone, and one more person to be thankful for this year, I wish you all a Happy Thanksgiving. Feel free to tell  me what YOU are thankful for this Thanksgiving Season in the comments section.

Cellulite and Tell You Right,


  1. I'm crying - that was hilarious. Why do I always need tissues around you?!? :)

  2. Hahah- yeah, we are like the Sisterhood of the Travel-size Kleenex :)

  3. Very nice! I'm thankful for a place to go share the big meal, with people that appreciate the items I will cook up and bring along.


  4. thankful you have a boyfriend who can keep up with my farts.
    love you sis!