Like a Rolling Stone

For those of you who’ve had to endure my week of Facebook statuses, I swear that this will be the very last word on my freaking kidney stone which, mercifully, was surgically removed last night.

Who knew something so tiny could be so painful? To prove that I’m not a total wuss, the New York Times health section calls kidney stones “the worse pain that a human being can endure and still survive” and several mothers I know who’ve had stones say that they think it was more painful than childbirth. I still feel like a whining baby, though, probably because instead of suffering in silence as good future saints like Bernadette of Lourdes did, I blasted my condition and all three of my emergency room visits on Facebook. Bernadette never would have done that, except to say how helpful and inspiring all the pretty ladies at Cedars were. For many of those damn saints, pain and illness were signs of a spiritual awakening. My friend Maria speculated that St. Teresa of Avila's Facebook status might have been "The pain was so great that it made me moan; and yet so surpassing was the sweetness of this excessive pain, that I could not wish to be rid of it." And you wonder why Jews don't have saints?

My first two visits to the ER were luxurious. There was practically no one there, I was quickly escorted into a private room, and treated to an IV of mind-numbing Dilaudid, a strong narcotic that immediately sent a rush of sensation into my body and gave me an hour of blissful relief. After my first visit and a CT scan that confirmed the presence of a kidney stone, I was sent home with a Vicodin prescription and told the stone would pass within a few hours or maybe a few days based on where it was. Four days later I was in worse agony and the Vicodin wasn’t working at all. Back to the still uncrowded ER where they offered to admit me. Fool that I was, I refused, thinking I could manage the pain at home and was given a stronger drug, Percocet, that only worked for the first few hours.

By Monday morning I was in so much pain that I couldn’t move, couldn’t walk, couldn’t eat. Kendall brought me back to the ER for a third time but now it looked like a November sweeps episode of a hospital drama—dozens of people in all sorts of misery and distress hanging from the rafters, half of them bloodied and crying, the other half yelling at the poor ER staff. After three hours of sitting in the waiting room, I was put on a gurney in a hallway, next to a woman who was screaming bloody murder because of the pain she was in. Her arm was swollen to three times its normal size and she was telling everyone that she had cancer in her spine and that these were her last days. Oy. The woman on the gurney behind me was begging, “Please don’t send me away from here!” and judging by her behavior I’m guessing that they were contemplating a move to the nearby mental health facility. After five miserable hours in the hallway, getting very little attention and not wanting to make a scene when clearly most of these people were way worse off than me, I was finally transferred to a room in the regular hospital.

It felt like moving from the streets of Calcutta to the Ritz-Carlton. Just my luck—a comfy private room that even had Turner Classic Movies on a flat screen TV and I was in too much pain to enjoy it. Now even the Dilaudid wasn’t working. They had to switch to a larger dose of regular morphine which sort of worked for the first two hours. The problem was, I could only get it once every three hours. And the surgery the urologist said I needed couldn’t happen until 5:30 pm the next day. I really don’t understand how anyone could become a narcotics addict, I found the effects of those drugs so awful. When I repeated that to one of the doctors, he said, “Oh, don’t worry, they use the drugs in a very different way.” The only fun part of my morphine experience was that sometimes I was able to “visit” people and places of my past—I went through every square inch of my grandparents’ Chicago apartment, for example, seeing details that I haven’t remembered in years.

Oy, enough of my kvetching. The surgery went well and the doctor said that the stone never would have passed because the entrance to my bladder from my ureter is abnormally small (have I reached new levels of TMI?). I’ll spare you the grizzly details but I feel compelled to mention, just to make my male readers squirm, that the entire procedure happened through my penis—all the way down and into my body, including the doctor’s insertion of a stent between my kidney and bladder that will be removed next week. Eww, right? Do I feel more comfortable discussing my penis because all I heard anyone at the hospital talking about for the past few days was New York Congressman Anthony Wiener’s member? Yuck. Sadly, that is the news story that will always remind me of my kidney stone!

The big news story that rocked the staff of Cedars when we were in the NICU with Charlie was Michael Jackson’s death. Now, two years later, when the anesthesiologist mentioned that he’d be putting me out with Propofol, he could see the familiar worried look in my eyes and had to explain that the way they use this drug is extremely different from the way Michael Jackson used it! I remain grateful to medical science for all their advancements and expertise. As soon as I woke up from the surgery last night, the excruciating pain I’ve had for the past week was gone. At the moment I have the feeling that I have to constantly pee even when I don’t and the color of my urine keeps moving from strawberry to grape Kool-Aid and back again, but I can deal with that, it shouldn’t last too long. And so ends the last you’ll ever be hearing of my body parts, unless I get embroiled in my own Twitter scandal. Seeing the gigantic smile on Charlie’s face today when he saw me approach the car at the hospital was almost worth going through all that pain. Thanks to everyone for their Facebook comments and good wishes. And remember, the number one way to avoid kidney stones is to DRINK LOTS OF WATER!

Comments

[maggie may]

Oh God, sounds awful. I"m glad you are OK! The Saint FB status is priceless :)

[Marjorie Larner]

I'm getting two glasses of water right now!

[Scott Egan]

I think my legs are stuck together.

[Peggy Shecket]

I am so happy to know that you are better, Danny.

[Danusia]

Oh G-d, I NEVER drink water, and I don't think coffee counts. And, I'd kill for a kidney stone if the pain makes you not want to eat. (Why did your post suddenly become all about me?) I'm so glad you're better and hope that the color of your urine looks less like Kool-Aid and more like lemonade! BTW, what's with the "Fall Risk"? Huggies!

[Karen]

Should I post here or Facebook - which is your bigger demographic?

So glad to hear you're doing well and out of pain! Best wishes for a speedy recovery!

[Jane]

Just reading this made me squirm in sympathy. I am so glad you're on the road to recovery.

[Heather]

Bless your heart. They gave my mom propofol when she had her colonoscopy. She loved it-said it was the first time that going under didn't make her sick to her stomach, and walked out of the surgery center and even went to grocery store with me. It's a wonder drug when used correctly.
You may want to try a product called Cystex(cranberry suppliment)to prevent future issues. Hope you feel better soon!

[Mike Cohen]

Oy.

Last August I ended up in the hospital with an E. Coli prostate infection (which I didn't know was possible). I flew to San Francisco for the first day of my new job and only lasted an hour in the office before I was in so much pain from not being able to pee that I had to be rushed to the hospital. I was peeing through a tube for a few days & it was one of the most unpleasant things ever.

They dismissed me with a prescription for vicodin (which I refused), along with a 2 month supply of antibiotics. I'll never take peeing for granted again.

[Laurie]

I am so sorry you had to go through that! Glad to hear it has been taken out. Oy!

[Linda]

I feel your pain. Literally. I had a kidney stone in December. I have 4 children, and yes, the kidney stone was worse than all four childbirths combined. You were spared the indignity of having to strain your pee to know when the stone passed. Glad you're feeling better!

[Jane]

We must not be Facebook friends because this is the first I heard of your ordeal. Okay, I did hear via Citizen of the Month's blog, but does that count? What kind of blog friends are we, anyway? I'm off to friend you on Facebook...and follow you on Twitter. Anything else I should do?

[Sheila Linderman]

FYI, I had a kidney stone this week. Not news for me, but definitely feeling solidarity with you.
Is that too much info?

[Julie R.]

I'm glad the procedure was a success and that you're feeling better. Now that I know all about your insides and private parts, I'm looking forward to your return to regularly scheduled programming.

[Emily Barton]

Only YOU could make me laugh out loud while reading about kidney stones. So glad to hear the worst is over. Now, keep it that way!

[Frances]

Danny, I hope you're feeling better. I'm drinking lots of water. Sheila, you make it sound like it's an everyday occurrence with you.

[marc and judy]

Danny: Kidney stones must be Dante's 10th circle. Glad you're now pain free, de-stoned, and un-stoned. Wishing you now uninterrupted good health ad infinitum. PS. Your description of that urological procedure did indeed make me squirm. Marc

[david]

I never knew a kidney stone could be so -- well -- entertaining!! Thank you for warning me to drink more water, and, uh, the other stuff. Heal well.

[OldOldLady Of The Hills]

OWWWW! I had no idea you were going through all this horror show, Danny. I am not on Facebook, so I am not in the "know"....! I am very happy your Stone has been removed...Not as happy as you, probably, (lol) But I have always heard that Kidney Stones are the worst pain possible.... Rest well, my dear, and drink lots and lots of the best drink there is: WATER!

[Bill Sharp]

Glad your stone is out, Danny, but what a piker you are. LOL. (There's an ancient phrase for you.) One stone? I've passed over 1,500 stones, then they stopped coming out and built up inside to where I eventually had 5 pounds of stone removed from one kidney and 3 from the other. My urgent advice for you is to go to a nephrologist (they are vastly different from urologists) to find out what caused your stones and to take steps to prevent any more.

[Otir]

Wishing you a complete and speedy recovery!

What an ordeal, sorry to hear about it, even after it is over, your retelling of it was compelling and painful. I am glad everything ends well, and soon will just remain another great blogpost of yours.

[Sally]

you poor thing! I'm glad you're feeling better. Excuse me while I go get myself a tall glass of water :)

[Judy]

So sorry to hear about your pain. So glad to hear it's all over. must drink more water too...thanks for reminding us!

[Chrisy]

My friend and running partner has had six children, all naturally -- only breathing, squeezing things and moaning through contractions. Two weeks ago she endured a kidney stone. We chatted about the pain yesterday at the gym, and she said the kidney stone was much worse than childbirth.

I'm sorry for your ordeal, and hope that you continue to heal... and drink your water. :)

[Pam G]

Good to chat with you earlier. I didn't see this as your drama happened last week when I was down in DC watching Follies at the Kennedy Center and to think I complained about the 102 degree F heat while back in LA you were enduring far greater misery. I'm glad you're doing better now. Keep drinking that water!

[Paula]

When you said "grizzly details" I feared a bear was involved somehow. Luckily, not. Glad you are better! A gallbladder attack is this bad, too. Narcotics can be your friend!

[amba]

SOOO glad they got it out, Danny!! Enjoy just being pain free!