Josh said last week it was too soon to poke fun at him for the kidney stone. I asked when “too soon” would be over. He said never. I said, whatever. It’s been a week, and he’s fine so. . .
Last week we headed down to Denver the night before our appointment for Toby because the weather turned to absolute poo. (Let’s face it though, it’s Wyoming & Colorado in January- so crap weather should surprise no one. And if it does, you should live somewhere else. Just sayin)
Around 3 am, Josh sat straight up and declared “I’m awake!” Even though it was dark, I gave him my “what is wrong with you” face, and he knew it, because without missing a beat he added, “I don’t know why, so don’t ask.” I shrugged, point taken, and rolled back over to go back to sleep. About that time however, Josh ran to the bathroom and started worshiping the porcelain gods. I thought perhaps his tribute had given him food poisoning and he was just sick. Wrong.
The guy started moaning and pacing back and forth. He tried to lay down, he tried to stand up. I put him in the tub, thinking maybe the warm water would help a bit. He kept saying it felt like someone hauled back and kicked him in the balls. (his words, not mine) The way he was moving, groaning, and not able to stand all the way up, you would have thought he was in active labor. I’m pretty sure that’s exactly how I felt with Sarah last year once my water broke.
But, Josh is clearly not carrying a baby. Unless it’s a food baby.
I tried talking to him to get more info on what was really the matter. Finally he was able to explain how his back to his front hurt and how low it was in his abdomen. Instantly I though kidney stone. Over in Hungary we’ve had a number of guys get them due to the super high calcium levels in the water. He’s been drinking that water for a year and a half.
I suggested we go to the ER and he told me no. Approximately 7 minuets later he changed his mind and said he wanted to go. He must have been in some serious pain because this guy won’t even take tylenol when his head hurts, or allergy meds when he is miserable. Glutton for punishment, much?
It took a few minuets to get all the snow off the car and get it thawed out, but before long we were on our way. The roads. Were. Crap. It had rained, then sleeted, frozen, then snowed on top of that. Upon stopping at a red light, Josh started telling me to just run it as he writhed in pain in the passenger seat. I told him unless he was dying or bleeding out, I wasn’t running red lights, on an ice rink. If I did, there would surely be a snowplow coming that I didn’t see.
We made it to the ER, though it turns out it was the wrong one. I meant to go to PSL where we were having our appointment later that morning, but apparently there are several hospitals in those 3 city blocks, so we wound up at St. Joseph’s. No big deal though, it was empty in there.
They asked Josh a few questions and had me give them his insurance information. He was in intake for all of 2 minuets, but he swears it was much longer and was getting very grumpy. His sense of time is skewed badly when he’s in pain.
Pretty quickly we had him back in a room, and the nurse was there trying to get him to get onto the gurney, but he wasn’t having it since he was in the middle of getting sick again. The nurse was pretty worried he was going to fall and hit his head since he was leaning so far over. The poor girl couldn’t even get him to hold still so she could get an IV into his arm.
Once she did, they got him on morphine, which made him stop moving at least, though it didn’t dent the pain a whole lot. So they gave him MORE. And then it was quiet. Very quiet.
A nice guy came and whisked Josh off for a CT scan and I waited. Noticing that it was still, very, very empty in the ER. Odd, I thought, because with all this crap weather, there HAD to be accidents. Curiosity got the best of me, so I asked. Turns out the ER isn’t a trauma ER, so they don’t get the accidents. What they DO get however, are the mental patients.
Ah, how fitting for us. . .
Josh was back pretty soon, quiet and now on oxygen since they had loaded his system up with so many drugs. Before too long, the doc came back and confirmed it was a kidney stone. I laughed (inappropriate, I know) and declared 10 points for the wife for guessing what was wrong. The doc just looked at me and continued on. He shouldn’t be surprised though, they DID say the ER sees mental patients after all!
They wanted to get the whole bag of IV fluid into Josh before he left, so while we waited Josh gave me his sad puppy dog eyes and proceeded to apologize profusely and lament that he was old, because now he has to see a urologist. Silly man. At least they weren’t going to make him stay. I was afraid they’d keep him and I’d have to go to the baby appointment alone. Instead, I just got to take a drugged up man to the appointment. You should see his notes he took while we were there. If someone has a drugged attorney handwriting decoder, let me know?
By 1pm that day, you wouldn’t have known anything had happened, sans the bags under both our eyes. I suppose all’s well that ends well?