The Continuing Kidney Stone Saga

First there was the nurse who asked Mom no less than five times if she was SURE she wanted to lift me onto the bed. Criminey, lady, how many times does she have to say "Yes, I've been lifting her since she was a baby" before you get a clue and get out of the way and let her do it??

Then there was the usual hunt for a vein for the IV. At least three nurses and a lab assistant looked, none of them could find one or get the IV in when they tried. I kept trying to get them to get a Doppler machine to check for a deeper arm vein, and they went to ask the anesthesiologist if he could just mask me to put me out. No go, because they (understandably) have to give me fluids during the procedure. He starts talking central line.

Oh, I don't think so, buddy -- not without sedation, pal.

He said, "We'll give you lidocaine. That'll take care of any pain." Bull. I know better. He started telling me how good he was, how I won't feel anything. Uh uh. Been there, done this. I know better. The LAST guy who tried this on me was supposedly really good, too, but after 45 minutes and no central line, you'll forgive me if I don't take you at your word. We argued back and forth, I tried hard not to cry and wasn't terribly successful, and my dad piped in with, "Why can't you give her a shot of versed or something?" The guy said sure I could, but we have to wait 20-30 minutes for it to work, and I have to be back at the pain clinic in 15.

So, what, like, you're the only guy who can do this?

Well, no . . . .

Give me the shot.

The anesthesiologist ordered the shot (a versed/morphine combo), Dad headed off to the bathroom (I have a suspicion he was also at his end with the doctor), and I cried. Mom told me to calm down and not upset myself further, but I told her that I COULDN'T calm down until I got all that frustration out. So I cried. And I felt better.

The nurse finally brought me my shot (ouch!), and a new anesthesiologist, Dr. Tonga, came in. He asked if I minded if he just took another try at a regular IV. I stuck out my arms and said, "Please! Be my guest!" He tried twice in the back of my left hand -- no luck. Then, joy of all joy, he got it in the inside of my right forearm.

I think I love you, Dr. Tonga.

In short order, I was off to the OR. Next thing I know, I'm awake and couldn't decide if my kidney or my throat hurt worse. I got a couple of shots of morphine and something else, then I headed back to the other room. Things were going great -- I had some toast, a few sips of water and a few more of Sprite. Then it hit me -- I had to pee. Bad. Mom put me on the bedpan, and all I got was a trickle. When I had the first stint put in back in March, a nurse told me that sometimes, after you've had a procedure done through the urethra, your body will fool you and make you THINK you have to urinate when you really don't. Except that when Mom folded my leg up to adjust me on the pan, I shot off (good thing the pan was there). I took a break, tried again later, and I still only got a trickle. The nurse called my urologist and he said to straight cath me and see what happened.

Mom said it was like a fountain -- and they got more than 1000 cc.

Nurse called doc again, and he said to put in a Foley catheter. I have to have it until Monday at 10:00 a.m. ::sigh:: This thing is a might uncomfortable when you sit on it.

Then last night, after we got home, I threw up twice. I'm thinking it was all the drugs in my system because I'm feeling better today. Still not terribly hungry, but I WAS able to eat lunch and haven't felt like it was trying to come back up.

As for the surgery, Doc put in a bigger stint and got one stone completely broken up. He's not sure how much of the second one was broken up because it was "around a corner" plus it was hard to see through the debris of the first stone. We find out for sure on the 26th when I have my follow-up.