My ability to now sit upright has allowed for some much needed catching up. Here is the October overview...
Early October, I was asked to pick Rylin up from daycare- vomiting, high fever, achy. All the makings for a puke fest. The typically indefatigable pre-schooler could barely hold his steaming head up. Mom and Dad were still at work so he came here to convalesce. Much puking, Tylenol-taking and dead-to-the-world naps later (I know...Rylin napped. I was shocked too and should have taken a picture to validate), Meghan picked him up. Later that night, she rushed him to the ER. He tested positive for H1N1. A few days later both Meghan and I did too.
While the ill half of the Bakers recovered, I moved from severe stomach cramps caused by flu to severe stomach cramps caused by kidney stones. A quick trip to the ER and clever detective work by my favorite ER doc, Joy Vess (thank you and I love you- have I told you how great your hair looked? We have to stop meeting like this, people will think you're my dealer.) confirmed an 8mm stone on the precipice of the kidney/ureter pathway. (Two more stones were visible, one larger, one smaller, but both looking as though they were staying within the kidney wall confines, therefore deemed, no immediate threat). I was thankful to know that the Bacon Puke Fest was not back for an encore. Not so pleased that the donkey punch to the kidney was going to hang around for a bit.
A trip to Greenville Urology, another picture of my insides and another cup of pee later, I was scheduled for a routine lithotripsy the following week. Because the ureter is tiny and my stone (I've named him Bane as in, of my existence) was the size of a Volkswagon ("dat thing really hauls."), the procedure was the best option. (I would later recant this thought...jumping from the rooftop of my house and skewering myself on a decadently-colored Maple tree would have been preferred.)
Mom drove me to the St. Francis outpatient surgery locale and hung out with Ever. My plan was to use as little pain medication as possible to ensure that I could feed her after, or shortly after, the procedure.
Prepped and hair-netted, I was wheeled into the trailer of a Mac truck mobile lithotripsy unit. (Red Flag #1). I'm still having night sweats about the truck driving me to a remote, wooded area and harvesting my good kidney. Lady nurse, boy nurse (and, because I asked during the procedure, found out he was also the wielder of stone-zapping laser..."I've been doing this for two years Ma'am." Where's the doctor, I wondered while my bare ass sunk into an arctic squishy donut-shaped ring.) and the Candy man hovered around me like aliens on an asshole (sorry Eddie if you read this). Little bit of medicine- I could still talk, see, feel. Zap, zap, zap, zap....like rubberbands snapping at my kidney...in the same spot...for an eternity. As the velocity or strength or whatever increased so did the discomfort. Only once did I need a little med boost. I thought I did well. So did the team. Yeah Me!
Recovery room, release papers signed, out in 20 minutes. Then, the drive home.
As Mom will attest (and Ever if she could talk), 5-8 minutes after departing the hospital in relatively low to moderate pain, lightening struck...me. Instant nausea, instant pain- pain so intense that I liken it thusly: I'm hit by a bus driven by Satan, bus stops short of railroads tracks in just enough time to rocket me into an oncoming bullet train conducted by Nancy Grace, which too, stops fast ejecting me into a titanium wall espoused with razory hot pokers. My impact causes the other side of the wall to slam shut and lava-like acid is released from the gums of the Veloceraptors above. Then I vomit.
The next 3 days are a blur of bath tub sleeping (fetal position, hot water cascading down back), vomiting and pill-taking. Dim outlook, head back to the ER.
I remember holding my giant red puke bowl and somehow making it to the waiting room. I couldn't sit for all the pain, so I perched on the seat edge unaware of anything but how bad I hurt. I recall retching and loosing my grip on the bowl and in slow motion watching the contents splatter across the floor. I remember telling the triage nurse to help me. I remember her look of urpiness as I tried to give my date of birth with bile dripping from my chin. More pee, more scans, more holes in arms. Enter dilaudid. It's bad stuff kids, but I had never been more thankful for the peace it brought me. Enough calm to breathe without screaming.
This was this first talk of hematoma and big and kidney and pain management. I remember little- dilaudid fairies had lovingly washed my wounds and we're playing jumprope with my IV.
4 days later, Joy Vess (everyone's favorite ER doc) had been tracking my recovery, and suggested another trip to the ER. I should have been getting better. Fever and sweats, continued nausea, pain etc... scans, pee, blood... more dilaudid. More peace. It was concluded that the procedure had broken up half of the 8mm stone. In doing so, a large hematoma developed on the kidney. Each breath like daggers, each movement like Reaper's scythe. It was explained that this was a "raw deal." And sometimes, though rare, it happens. The attending physician likened it to his own "raw deal," three colonoscopies because he bled out for the first two and they couldn't stop the bleeding. Time, he said. Time and strong pain meds.
4 or 5 (can't remember now) more days have passed. I am feeling stronger, able to sit up and (obviously) type/think (ish). The urologist yesterday said they'd like not to try and mess with the stone right now. (Umgeethanks.)
On a positive note, Ever was forced to learn to eat solids. She never did take a bottle and had to be spoon-fed milk. And I lost 10 lbs. Probably not a weight-loss plan promoted by Julian Michaels...but I think Cosmo had it on their Fall cover last month...the puke til your insides come out diet.
I'm eternally grateful for the help of my family, the prayers of loved ones, the diligence of one Pamela Joy Vess Beaver. I've never been so sick...yet more loved.
Chompers the Great Pumpkin
Iko the Wonderpup and in her Halloween get-up
A Frog Prince, his sister the Punky Witch and a very tired (and very sore) Mama Zombie
A beautiful Fairy Princess/ Tooth Fairy/ Fairy Godmother...she's still deciding. Grandma Lyn put this little costume together for Scoobs.
Most of the babies... Rylin was a handsome Knight, Donovan a nerdily Nerd and Tyler went as a Skateboarding Zombie.
He grunted and moaned trying his best to lift the Great "Pah-Kin"
Since Woog was the Frog, we thought it appropriate for Ever to be the Chef. Frog Legs anyone?
Two Great Pumpkins.
