Thursday, October 22, 2009
Stoned
Well, I have learned another important lesson. It turns out that when you have sharp shooting pains in your abdomen for two days straight it is most likely not food poisoning or a muscle pull from the gym. It will not simply go away, but instead devolve into a fit of dry heaving and pain-induced hallucinations sufficient to force you to take a cab to the emergency room and then, after being dropped off at the wrong entrance, stagger half a block down the street to the front desk where you report your social security number to the clerk between gasps and bursts of tears. The triage nurse will in fact have to tell you to calm down several times, even though you have already informed her that on a scale of one to ten your pain is an eleventy zillion. And then, one unbelievably blissful IV of morphine and several x-rays later, you will find out you have a kidney stone. 4 millimeters of pure joy lodged in your urinary system and just itching to rip its way out of your peter. And, thanks to the massive amounts of painkillers, you won't really be all that upset about it. At least until they start to wear off.
So I have spent the past couple of days in a bit of a haze, living from pill to pill and straining my urine in hopes of seeing my little friend emerge. That's definitely a fun thing to do in your work bathroom, let me tell you. Usually you don't want to be caught taking equipment in with you.
But at least it's not appendicitis, I guess. Or swine flu. When I was delirious with pain on day two of my journey I started imagining all kinds of weird things it could be. I got as far as rickets before realizing this had nothing to do with my joints. I just like old timey diseases, I guess.
Well, I have learned another important lesson. It turns out that when you have sharp shooting pains in your abdomen for two days straight it is most likely not food poisoning or a muscle pull from the gym. It will not simply go away, but instead devolve into a fit of dry heaving and pain-induced hallucinations sufficient to force you to take a cab to the emergency room and then, after being dropped off at the wrong entrance, stagger half a block down the street to the front desk where you report your social security number to the clerk between gasps and bursts of tears. The triage nurse will in fact have to tell you to calm down several times, even though you have already informed her that on a scale of one to ten your pain is an eleventy zillion. And then, one unbelievably blissful IV of morphine and several x-rays later, you will find out you have a kidney stone. 4 millimeters of pure joy lodged in your urinary system and just itching to rip its way out of your peter. And, thanks to the massive amounts of painkillers, you won't really be all that upset about it. At least until they start to wear off.
So I have spent the past couple of days in a bit of a haze, living from pill to pill and straining my urine in hopes of seeing my little friend emerge. That's definitely a fun thing to do in your work bathroom, let me tell you. Usually you don't want to be caught taking equipment in with you.
But at least it's not appendicitis, I guess. Or swine flu. When I was delirious with pain on day two of my journey I started imagining all kinds of weird things it could be. I got as far as rickets before realizing this had nothing to do with my joints. I just like old timey diseases, I guess.
