When Friendship Leads to Christening a Car…With Urine


Remember how much of an asshole my kidney was being?  Well, I went into to see the Pee-Pee doctor a couple of weeks ago to see if I had flushed that damn stone out. I mean I was drinking so much water that I was sloshing around as I walked.  I went in feeling confident it must have passed only to have Pee-Pee doctor tell me it hadn’t.  Asshole kidney.  Guess what that meant?  More surgery to remove it.  I could have waited, but I was due to travel to Seattle and didn’t want to end up at Seattle Grace with McDreamy looking all up in my business, so surgery it had to be.  BFF was unable to take me to surgery due to work so enlisted one of  my other friends MA to help me out.  Damn asshole kidney.

So there I was, having more surgery on my lady business…but at least this time I did it at an outpatient surgery center and knew I would go home that same day.  Unfortunately, Pee-Pee doctor told me I would have to have another stent placed that I would then remove when I was up in Seattle.  Oh joy.  That sounds like so much fun…not.  Good thing I did the Fat Girl gymnastics to shave the jungle forest that was growing down there since I was gonna have a bunch of people all up in there, including BFF who was gonna have to pull the stent.  Also a good thing was the anesthesiologist was one I knew and gave me good drugs before wheeling me into the OR.  A little propofol, or MJ juice as I like to call it, was given to me and quickly I felt like my head was swimmy and I told MA that all while waving my fingers in front of my face like an idiot.  I am pretty funny on the good drugs.  Then the nurse started asking me questions and I could barely concentrate on what she was saying.  Believe me, I tried.  I even tried a deep breath as she was talking to me…who asks a patient questions about their allergies after the MJ juice has been given?  For reals.  When they wheeled me into the OR, the nurses asked me where I was going on my sleepy vacation.  Duh.  Disneyland.  As I fell asleep, we were discussing rides at Disneyland.  Good times.

I woke up rather quickly in the OR and felt the device they used in my airway called an LMA. I know now why patients pull at tubes in their throat…it was all I could do not to pull it out.  Thank goodness they removed it right away.  Immediately upon arrival to the recovery room, I told the nurse I had to pee…and BADLY.  She put a bedpan underneath me but not before I had involuntarily peed on the gurney.  WTH?  I freaking peed the gurney.  Awesome.  I chalked it up to coming out of anesthesia at first till she put the bedpan under me and I still could not control my bladder.  MA came in to see me and help me get my clothes back on.  As I stood up, more urine ran down my leg.  Seriously WTH?  This didn’t happen with the last surgery.  Now I can’t control my bladder?  MA asked the nurse for a maxi pad as I was standing there naked, peeing myself.  Great friend that she is, she even got all up in my lady business to check the stent and it was fine.  Really glad I shaved now.  I asked to be wheeled to the potty once I was dressed, feeling urine leaking the entire time.  By the time I got to the bathroom, the pad was soaked so I put on another one, which I also immediately soaked.  Seriously.  This was crazy.  MA at least thought to ask for a pad to put underneath me in her car.  The nurse never once said anything about this bladder leaking.  I was worried I would not be able to control my bladder for the rest of my life at this point.  MA and I started laughing in her car about me having to wear an astronaut diaper on the plane to Seattle when I looked at her and said “I am peeing my pants.  Right now.  In your car.  Your car has just been christened…with my pee.  Awesome.”  That led us to hysterics and for me to completely soak my pants with my own urine.  Yup.  Totally christened MA’s car with my urine.

Upon getting home, I opted to go straight to the toilet and sit while MA went and filled my prescriptions and got me Poise pads to put in my underwear.  Great.  It had come to this.  At age 43, I was gonna have to start wearing Poise pads in my chonies and astronaut diapers while traveling because my kidney was an asshole.  I was sitting there on the potty, leaking urine, when I got curious about the stent.  So I took a look at my own lady business.  There staring back at me was..the stent.  Or at least a good chunk of it.  Hanging out of my urethra franklin.  This could not be good.  Pretty sure that was not normal.  I quickly walked to grab my phone sans pants at this point with a pad shoved between my legs.  I am so sexy.  A quick phone call to Pee-Pee doctor’s office and they confirmed this was for sure not normal.  I was instructed to take two pain pills , wait an hour and pull it out.  The office even told me if I didn’t pull it out, I would leak urine all the time.  Well…this makes a bit more sense.  It must have been dislodged from the minute I hit the recovery room.  Awesome.  Of course this was me.  Nothing is ever simple or normal with me.  A quick call to MA and I explained the situation.  At this point, Bubby and Pocket GF have come over to stay with me and all I can do is tell them the situation from the potty in my bathroom.  Pretty sure I do not want either one of them all up in my lady business so I wait for MA to come back from the store.  Good thing I have great friends.  MA returned and looked into my lady business again to also confirm that the stent was now hanging out.  I was done with sitting on the potty, not controlling my bladder, so MA and I decided just to pull the damn thing out.  Good thing I am also not modest as we grabbed the offending stent and pulled it out of my urethra franklin.  Immediately, I could control my bladder and I was more comfortable.  Whew.  My fleeting vision of a lifetime of astronaut diapers and Poise pads was dismissed.  Again, I am so grateful for my friend MA and the laughter we had that day.  Let’s hope my kidney quits being an asshole now.  Jerk.

Oh yeah.  I didn’t die today.  I did think I was going to be condemned to wearing astronaut diapers for the rest of my life, but I didn’t die.  I am Fat Girl who christens my friend’s car with my own urine Running.  The experiment continues…

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

My Kidney Is An Asshole


So I went to visit my Seester since it had been a year since we had seen each other (horror!) and she having just had surgery on her foot was unable to travel.  Off to Texas with me then!!  We did all the fun things you do with Seesters…shopping, sushi, shopping, more sushi, discussing books…you know the usual. We even drove up to Little Rock, Arkansas to pick up our baby sister and visit my Dad.  When we returned the next day, baby sister in tow, my kidney decided to become an asshole.

We had just gotten back from Little Rock when I noticed my back was hurting.  Of course, I thought it was just the way I had been sitting in the car for the last six hours.  Now, a couple of days before we went on our trip I had noticed it seemed to feel like I had to pee an awful lot and like my bladder was spasming again like after the surgery.  I had even texted that to BFF and made up my mind that I would go see the Pee-Pee Doctor when I got home.  This pain, however, was just like last time but started to intensify in increments and brought along it’s lovely friend nausea.  It was so horrid that I excused myself to lie down and texted BFF to ask her what I should do.  We agreed I should go and ask my Seester or BIL to take me to the nearest ED since the pain was worsening and nausea was increasing.  Seester, who was worried, agreed and we set off to the nearest ED which, luckily for me, was just down the street from Seester’s house.

After getting checked in, I was taken right back since I could not even sit still long enough for the poor nurse to take my vitals because of the pain.  The room we were put in was like an ice box and changing into the oh so warm and soft (can you hear the sarcasm?) patient gown gave a new meaning to goosebumps.  You could have cut glass with…well you get it.  Soon, I had an IV started and labs drawn and was hoping for pain meds to make the increasing level of pain go away.  The doc came in and I swear I got the India version of Doogie Howser because he looked to be all of twelve.  Guess what he told me was wrong?  Kidney stone!  Really?  For serious didn’t I just go through this?  Yup.  My kidney is an asshole and decided to give me a kidney stone on my trip.  Awesome. I could barely focus on what India Doogie was saying as the pain was escalating to the point that I was going to start throwing things or going on a vagina punching rampage.  He quickly said he would go order me some.  I might have scared him with my demonic faces as I was trying to talk to him.  Tick tock tick tock….Now I am writhing in pain on the gurney and sobbing, begging my Seester to make the pain stop.  Seester, fed up with waiting, did her best Shirley MacLaine impression from Terms of Endearment. She hobbled out to the nurses station, crutches and walking boot and all, slammed down her fist and demanded I get pain meds.  Thank you Seester.  The poor nurse that came in kept apologizing to us for the delay and immediately I felt relief.  Medicated and with orders to call my own Pee-Pee Doctor in the morning since I was flying home in two days, I left the ED and went back to Seester’s house, where my sweet baby sister handed me a beaded necklace she had made me to make me feel better.

Once I flew back home two days later, BFF and I went up to get an Xray and see the Pee-Pee Doctor.  Yup.  he was pretty sure that I was correct in saying my kidney is an asshole and that there was a stone.  A CT later and confirmation…my kidney is definitely an asshole.  A small kidney stone can be seen and we are hoping I pass it soon and do not need another procedure to remove it.  Oh joy.  Listen asshole of a kidney…quit this already.  I really do not like these stones as they are quite painful and make me want to do torturous things like pull out chest hairs one by one on a really hairy guy.  That could prove to be fun.  Let’s hope I pass it soon.  I have desperately trying to flush my system to get it to pass.  I blame my kidney.  My kidney is for sure an asshole.  Jerk. 

Oh yeah…I didn’t die today.  I did however have a little kink in my trip to my Seester and BIL and get treated by India’s Doogie Howser but I didn’t die.   I am Fat Girl with a kidney who is an asshole Running.  The experiment continues…

A Birthing Tale….Part 1


Where has The Fat Girl been you are wondering?  Holy canoli Batman…what a crazy month.  It started out all nice and sweet, just hanging with the BFF for her birthday (more about that another time) and finishing up writing the manuscript for Book #2 so I could meet my deadline with my publisher, when it took a horrible turn for the bad and just got worse.  Now, let’s just say I do not do anything small.  At all.  A Fat Girl lives her life large and in charge.  So when I started having horrid back pain right after BFF’s birthday-palooza that I could not handle, I knew something was desperately wrong.

Let’s be perfectly clear.  I have a VERY high threshold for pain.  I mean I did walk around on a torn meniscus for 6 months before I could not handle it anymore and had surgery.  I had been having back pain off and on since December but since I had sciatica, I just did what I normally did when it flared with stretching, massage and motrin.  This back pain was different and an entirely different monster in itself.  It started suddenly and nothing I did would relieve it.  I tried motrin, heat, stretches, ice…you name it I tried it.  When BFF came by later in the day, she immediately said she noticed a difference in me.  I could not sit still…not even on the all and powerful couch.  When I did, I was alternating between rocking back and forth and wiggling my feet.  I mostly paced around my living room asking BFF what I should do.  I told her I thought I was trying to pass a kidney stone, since obviously I had Googled AND looked up all my symptoms on Wikipedia so THAT must be it.  Either that or I was birthing a baby, which might have been an Easter miracle considering I have no baby box any more.  Birthing pains are what passing a kidney stone has been compared to by many people and BFF says I would have made a great woman in labor.  I literally would stop what I was doing and say to her “Hang on…there it is again.”  A few deep breaths later and a scrunch of my face and my conversation with her would continue.  Being the great patient that I am, I wouldn’t let her take me to the ED.  Instead, I gratefully took the pain pills she found for me that were left over from my surgery in Sept (yes…I am aware of how bad of a patient nurses are) and promptly fell asleep.

The next day, I went to see my doc.  She thought I was also trying to birth a kidney stone and ordered me to get a CT that had actually been ordered back in December when I had back pain.  I just didn’t think I needed it then because of course I had already diagnosed myself with the help of my friends Google and Wikipedia with sciatica.  (I also received a lecture from her about how horrible nurses are as patients) She then gave me the most painful shot of my life of antibiotics into my flass in case it was a kidney infection.  Seriously…that hurt worse than the back pain.  I also now feel so terrible for all the kiddos I have ever given that shot to in the hospital.  It felt like peanut butter on fire going into my flass.  Horrid I tell you.  A couple of days later, CT completed with labs drawn, back pain still in progress off and on and I called to get my results.  The NP then surprisingly says to me that all my results are VERY concerning and she was calling the Pee-Pee Doctor on call to see what needed to be done as I had a VERY large kidney stone.  Huh.  There I was, minding my own business, sitting on my couch in my jammies eating Skittles when she called me back and gave me my hospital room number to check into.  Huh…what? I am pretty sure I choked on a Skittle when she told me that the stone was so large that I needed to have surgery in the morning.  I even tried to reason with her that I could just show up in the morning when she told me I was a very sick Fat Girl and needed to report to the hospital pronto.  Say what?  I don’t feel sick.  I just have back spasms every now and then. I hadn’t even really taken anything except for Motrin in days.  I was so floored that I could not even think of what to do or say except to immediately call BFF who hightailed it over to my house to take me and hear what the Pee-Pee Doctor had to say.

Pee-Pee Doctor came by once I was checked into the hospital (nothing like being a patient in your own facility and having to call in sick from your patient room) to tell me that I indeed was trying to birth a kidney stone but that it was stuck and I would NEVER pass it on my own.  Why?  Because it was 6mm x 2cm big and normally your ureter is 3-4 mm in diameter.  Holy blocked Urethra Franklin Batman!  That’s no stone….that’s a boulder!  He told me it was so stuck that I had urine backed up into my kidney and was indeed a very sick Fat Girl.  He was even nice enough to draw me a picture on the sheet on my bed.  I really wanted to steal that sheet and keep it as a souvenir but they took it from me.

20140424_200046
Pic of my Urethra Franklin with my kidney boulder that the Pee-Pee Doctor drew me. Although…it does sort of look like a pee-pee

Pee-Pee Doctor even explained the whole surgery to me and how they would put a laser up my Urethra Franklin and break up the boulder.  I felt like I was going to be in an episode of the Star Wars movie saga.  Like he was gonna take a LightSaber up in there, special effects and all, and destroy the Death Star that was in my Urethra Franklin.  I swear if I had heard the pew-pew of tiny lasers in the operating room I would have started laughing.  Then he told me he was going to put a tube in there to let it heal that would stay in for a bit after surgery.  That is a whole different experience that I shall get into in part two.  So, the next day, starving since nothing to eat since midnight and my surgery was in the afternoon, off I went to give birth to my kidney boulder, who I have now named Luke in honor of the Star Wars episode my surgery was certain to be. There might have been some pew-pew sound effects but I had happy drugs and didn’t care.  So there I shall leave it for now….I birthed a boulder and that is why you have not heard from me.

In celebration of me still getting my manuscript to my editor in time, in spite the birth of Luke the kidney boulder, I am doing a signed book giveaway on my Facebook page!  Go on over and enter…so many ways to win!  You can access my Facebook page right on the side over there….and then go to the Giveaway tab to find it!!  Simple and easy!

Oh yeah.  I didn’t die today.  I instead decided to star in my own episode of Star Wars but I didn’t die.  I am Fat Girl who gave birth to Luke the kidney boulder Running.  The experiment continues…..