It started as a typical “everyone else has the day off” kinda’ day. (See Post #66). My wife and I took the dogs for a walk, and I got my Hood to Coast training miles completed. We talked about going to see the movie, “Dunkirk,” as is her Saturday night tradition, including only popcorn for dinner. Instead, she decided to prepare a picnic, and we went to Cathedral Park to hear a free symphony brass performance. The weather was perfect under the beautiful St. John’s bridge here in Portland, and the dogs did not have to spend the evening at home with the cat. We forgot to pack the wine, but otherwise everything was perfect. The pups behaved themselves on the blanket, while the young kids in the crowd were entertained by the conductor, waving streamers, marching, and blowing on plastic instruments. It was controlled chaos, and there was even a clown!
My wife was having her own internal chaos. She began to experience some shooting pains and bladder pressure. She casually mentioned a couple of times her discomfort, and seemed a bit agitated, considering our pleasant surroundings. As she began to describe the symptoms, we both agreed that it was probably a kidney stone. There have been numerous times in my life that I’ve dealt with these evil stones. The very first time, it was beyond scary experiencing such excruciating pain and not knowing the source. I can recall a very dangerous situation where I was trying to drive myself to the emergency room and blew right through a couple of red lights, focused solely on the pain radiating into my back. I felt constipated and uncomfortable, as I tried to communicate with the attending nurses and doctors. Women describe it as painful as child birth, and as we were driving back from the concert, trying to avoid bumps in the road, my wife was using some of the breathing techniques that she learned in pregnancy. We dropped the dogs and picnic gear off at the house, and headed straight for the Emergency Room.
There have been only a handful of times that I have gone to the Emergency Room, and on most of those occasions it was related to kidney stones. However, after that first time, I would immediately recognize the signs and approach treatment with a lot less stress and worry. On one occasion, my wife and I were in San Diego to celebrate her birthday, and enjoying a day in the California sun. I had booked a hotel on Coronado Island, thinking it was directly on the beach. She was not happy with my choice, but we packed a picnic and walked the short distance to the ocean. It was nearing sunset and we were strolling hand-in-hand, enjoying the gold speckled sand and each other’s company. Suddenly, I went to my knees and got sick to my stomach. The pain was unbearable, but she helped me back to the car. We celebrated her birthday in the Emergency Room, where I was quickly sedated with enough pain killers to relax a horse. In fact, I even remember the doctor saying that to me, after the first two doses provided little relief. As we walked back to the hotel, that just happened to be right next door to our hotel, I jokingly mentioned that my booking choice was perfect! She was not amused.
My wife had her first kidney stone while we were living in Austin. Having already gone through gall stone surgery, she was a bit more familiar with the Emergency Room than I was. In fact, we spent New Years Eve of 1999 at the hospital, as she tried to prepare a festive Millennial lobster dinner for myself and her daughters. We were not married at the time, and had dismissed many of the more exotic ways to spend the occasion, but eventually settled on just staying home with the family. She cut her fingers badly on a sharp knife, and as a result, all of her fantastic dinner preparations were rudely interrupted with a trip to the Emergency Room in Indianapolis. I had been there a couple of times for kidney stone treatments before I met her. We did get home before the ball dropped at midnight, and I’m not sure we could have selected a more memorable way to bring in the year 2,000!
To her credit and strength, my wife did not panic last night. In fact, she had to sit there for three and a half hours awaiting treatment. We know from experience to seek immediate medical attention at the first signs of a kidney stone attack. Sometimes they can be reoccurring, as the stone makes its way down the urinary tract. We thought about leaving after a couple of hours of listening to incessant coughing and painful moans from other unfortunate souls who were also suffering. From her perspective, Saturday night turned well into Sunday morning before she got a shot of relief. Apparently, the hospital was short-staffed and those needing attention overwhelming. To me, it was just another day of retirement extended into the late hours, not a ruined weekend. My wife was just glad she didn’t have to leave in the middle of the movie, or sit painfully waiting for it to be over, knowing that she will be back at work tomorrow. We do have one more fun activity tonight before the “I owe, I owe, it’s off to work I go” alarm goes off, with the Ed Sheeran concert at the Moda Center. Hopefully, it won’t be as painful of an experience as the concert in the park!
I’m just grateful that both of us have had limited exposure to Emergency Rooms, and that our temporary disorders have been easily medicated. She’s been gardening this afternoon, after sleeping in a bit. I just hope the other patients fare equally as well, especially that person with the nasty cough. I used a lot of Purell last night, taking advantage of every dispenser that I passed. There doesn’t seem to be a favorable remedy for either of us when it comes to preventing kidney stones. So far, though, two of our picnics have been interrupted by trips to the Emergency Room. Could there be a connection? My wife had been hoping that it was the high calcium content in the Austin water system that caused her first attack. I’ve had one or more in about every city I’ve lived in, and some I’ve visited, giving me a wide perspective on Emergency Room Services. Last night was by far the slowest!
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