The following post is really disgusting, and painful. Read no further if you have an ounce of squeamishness in you.
Okay. Something nasty is going on with my nether regions. It hurts when I pee.
[Brief pause for a chorus of Zappa’s Why Does It Hurt When I Pee]
It started on Monday. At work.
So, alarmed, I visited my doctor. Now, there’s something weird about this doctor’s office. They always have appointments. I called, and was in the office, actually getting seen by a Physician Assistant, within an hour.
He did a pretty thorough check. Some pain here and there, nothing major. He asked repeatedly about back pain, which I hadn’t, to that point, been experiencing. Asked me for a urine sample, which I happily provided; I’ve been peeing every fifteen minutes for the past two days. And then he discussed some possibilities.
One was a bladder infection. Nothing major, antibiotics, and in a couple of days things are better. Woo!
The other was a kidney stone.
[Pause for a brief chorus of “AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGGGGGGGGGHHHHH!” from all Dopers who know about kidney stones.]
For those of you who don’t know what a kidney stone is, it’s a solid object that forms in your kidneys, and that you then have to pass through your urinary tract.
They’re shaped like sea urchins.
[Pause for a brief chorus of “AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGGGGGGGGGHHHHH!” from all Dopers who didn’t know about kidney stones.]
So, he sent me home with a prescription for anitibiotics, and told me to call for the results of the urinalysis on Wednesday morning. Make sure it’s morning, he said, because on Wednesdays, we close at eleven.
I waited. I took the pills. Things have gotten worse. All the old symptoms, plus a few new ones, including back pain. I’ve spent the past day dreading the possibilities involved in the next few days. I want to know what’s wrong with me, dammit.
So, I wait until a reasonable hour this morning, and call for my results. Need I mention I barely slept last night? Need I mention that I’d been counting down the minutes until I could find out what’s going on? And even then, I have the presence of mind to not call until about 9:30.
No results in yet. We’ll call you.
Okay. Waiting. Cruising the boards. Pacing nervously. Drinking a lot of water, as recommended.
An hour and a half goes by. It’s ten minutes to freaking eleven. I call again. I ask for the results.
After a brief period on hold, the nurse comes back on the phone, and says “We’ll call you when the results are in.”
“Don’t you close at eleven?”
“Oh, we’ll probably be here all day.”
Um… okay. “The symptoms I had are getting worse. Maybe I can talk to-”
“That’s good to know. We’ll call you.”
[Begin obscene portion of rant]
You contemptible cuntwidget. I’ve been waiting, in pain, for over a day for this test result; I know you don’t have it, but can’t you at least give me some idea when you’ll be getting it in? And when a patient tells you the symptoms are worsening, don’t you think you might want to ask about that a bit? For all you know, I could be bleeding out through my eyeballs.
If the PA is right, sometime soon I’ll be experiencing an entirely new horizon of pain. I’m scared as hell. The last thing on earth I need right now is a cockpuppet like you belittling me for wanting more information about my medical condition.
Someday, if you’re ever in pain and scared, I hope some soulless functionary tells you, in a condescending tone of voice, that they’ll get back to you. I hope they imply, with all the sarcastic power at their disposal, that you’re an idiot for even calling, or being concerned.
Then I hope you have to pass a chunk of spiny gravel through your urethra. And whenever you ask anyone for help, and tell them it hurts, they say “That’s good to know.”
And now all I can get is an automated message.