...Flomax for Charlotte!

I take back everything I said about not needing to go to the ER. Oh, blessed doctors! Oh, blessed hospitals! and CT scanners! and drugs! After blogging yesterday's post, I had another bout of cramping in the lower right quadrant of my abdomen that brought me to tears. It passed after a little over an hour and, feeling a bit courageous, I made plans to go to work the next morning. (My superior is in China visiting our factories this week and I am left to get all my Fall 2011 styles ready for photo shoot in less than two weeks.) This is how last night went:

12:30am - Woke up to severe pain that was sharp and stabbing, not like the cramping I had previously experienced. Determined that this was a cramp and walking it out would help, I paced my floor, though doubled over. I only slightly tried to stifle my moaning realizing that my poor, sleeping roommate might be frightened to hear it. After twenty minutes, the pain subsides and I go back to bed.

3:00am - Woke up from a dream that I was in a street fight and getting stabbed in the stomach with a switch blade. Again, I tried to stand up and walk it out but gave up fairly quickly and opted to writhe in pain on my bed for ten minutes. Labored breathing and gasping.

4:00am - Woke up again to the same stabbing pain and cramping. Walked around my room. Lied down on my floor. Rolled around on my floor holding my stomach and moaning.

6:00am - Woke up to dulled pain. Realized I couldn't go into work and that something really was wrong... not imaginary wrong, like I had previously considered.

7:00am - Drove back to the ER and waited in the parking lot. No pain. I didn't want to check in feeling well, so I went back home and lied down in bed.

11:00am - Woke up to dull pain... that quickly developed into a HELL I have never felt before. I tried to quickly dress myself (which was difficult because I couldn't straighten my body out... or wouldn't, rather.) I got in my car and the pain overcame me. I started sobbing as I pulled out. Then I started shaking... and sweating. Every stop light felt like the worst punishment imaginable. Driving. Sobbing. Screaming. Dry heaving. I didn't think I could make it. I considered pulling over and flagging someone down to drive me the rest of the way. As I eyed places on the curb to stop, I calculated how all I needed to do was pull the door handle and let my weight fall against the door. I would fall onto the pavement and someone was bound to stop and get me to the hospital. But then doing so might increase the time before I got morphine and so I drove on in utter agony. I made it through the last stop light to the hospital and muttering out prayers in between my gasps and screams, I parked the car.

Lucky for me, a life flight was landing just as I approached the doors and attention in the waiting room was diverted from my shameless display of tears. I tried so hard to keep myself together while I checked in but I made it only two or three sentences before breaking into sobs while apologizing profusely for my incoherence.

On and on, they rushed me through the admittance process. The poor little tech who had to get my vitals deserves a metal. "So...what's going on?" "BUHUHUHUHUH... I... I... BUHUHUH..." I was immediately given an IV by my RN. The doctor came in and talked to me, gave me her best guess of what was going on and sent me off to get a CT scan. When the report came back, she was right. I have.....

KIDNEY STONES!

What the what?! On my right is a 5mm stone that has dropped from my kidney (but not passed.) On my left is a 2mm stone that has not dropped from my kidney yet. According to Dr. Anctil, 5mm is the "cut-off size" that may or may not pass. The plan is if I haven't passed it by Thursday morning, they'll take it by surgery/procedure on Friday. For now, I'm on Lortab for pain, an anti-nausea med, and... wait for it... Flomax?! Don't be concerned that Flomax is for men with enlarged prostates. (And, be impressed, I wrote this whole post under the influence of Lortab... I sure hope it makes sense.)