It felt like someone had hammered a railroad spike into my lower back. It’s a tossup between it and the gallstone attack I had about 3 years ago as to which hurt worse, but I think the kidney stone won by a nose.
Mr. Demerol is my very good friend.
I wound up having the roto-rooter procedure done, and if you have it done and the doctor tells you it’s a simple office procedure to remove the shunt, DON’T BELIEVE THE LYING BASTARD - DEMAND STRONG DRUGS!! If I had only known then what I know now…
First one: When I passed it, they told me it was pretty big. It was an oxalate stone, and they told me to lay off the Ovaltine. Fair enough. Pain? I called the school to get Mr. S out of class so he could take me to the doctor. Heavy, bad, sharp throbbing in my lower back, not unlike bad menstrual cramps. But I was not a happy camper. At the clinic I was dying to lie down, but the chairs all had arms, the floor was not an attractive option, and the fucking nurses wouldn’t let me use an unattended exam room or couch. Bitches.
Second one: About the same pain-wise. They had me strain my urine, catching it in a “nun hat,” so I could find the stone and have it analyzed, but the little bastard got past me.
Third one: Pretty much the same as #2.
Mine must have been mild also. Although the pain was no picnic, I wouldn’t say it was excruciating. Childbirth (which I’ve never experienced) has got to be worse. Still, I don’t recommend kidney stones to anyone. I get plenty of cranberry juice these days and haven’t had a stone in at least 5 years. Knock wood. And I’ve thrown away my nun hat.
Once, just once, I had a stent removed in this manner. The doctor said it might be “a little uncomfortable”. Right. Like a 12 inch long sharp stick in your ear might be a little uncomfortable. If you ever have a stent again, insist on one with a string that hangs out. The doctor might tell you about the increased risk of infection, the risk that you might pull it out yourself, blah, blah, blah. Keep insisting, loudly, on a stent with a string. This is what I always do now.
Okay, onto my story. I was fifteen years old when I got my first one. I thought I was drying. Truly. Horrible, horrible pain; uncontrolled puking. Mom took me to the ER, where I was introduced to demerol, which I had a bad reaction to. Made the puking even worse. Then, they gave me morphine, and the angels sang. I thought, as it took effect, I can understand why people get hooked on this.
I am now 44 years old, and have had more than two dozen stones. I’ve passed some, had some removed by cystoscopy, and some removed by percutaneous nephrotomy (whereby the doctor makes a small hole through your side into your kidney, and then dilates the hole until it’s big enough to go in and fish out the stone). Over the past few years, the different urologists I’ve had have told me that I will keep growing stones. Apparently, my kidneys are very good at it. Meantime, I have x-ray tests every six months or so to see what’s going on, and if I have to, I go to the ER in between testing. BTW, I’ve found you get quicker service in the ER if you actually puke in front of the triage nurse.