"Why, do you want to cuddle?"
"Nooo," I moaned, clutching my kidney. "I'm dying."
So he was kind enough to drive me to the hospital in his car that I projectile vomed in. That seems to be my signature move. Once we arrive, they gathered urine, blood, and shoved me in a tube that takes pictures of your innards, where they discovered kidney stones the size of rocks down by the river. They shot me in the ass full of painkillers, sent me home with more, and on the way out, I asked what was next.
"The urologist may break them up with lazers, soundwaves, medication, or you could pass them." I don't want to pass rocks down by the river, I thought, hoping they would lazer me, but wondering what all that would entail. I went home and called the urologist who of course, closed at nooner. I plan to go to work tomorrow and call him again. Here's hoping I don't have another episode.
BTW, I've been sobersaurus since April 4 if you're worried about that. If anything it's the half gallon of milk a day I drink + complete lack of water.