Yesterday morning I woke up with a start, my heart racing. I look around, the room is pitch black. As my eyes adjust to the darkness, my heart still racing, but all looks OK. Sampson is snuggled in behind my knees, Baby is nestled into the crook of my arms and Foxie, the mustached cat, is fighting my head for the pillow.
I take a deep breath and try to settle down my heart but it’s impossible. Forget it, I throw the covers off and roll myself out of bed. My feet hit the ground before my body does, so it should be a decent day. But why is my heart racing? Why does it feel like something is wrong?
I cover Sampi back up under the blankets, grab Baby and head into the living room. As we try to snuggle under the couch blanket, my head starts to throb. My heart is still racing and I am completely uneasy. I grab my tablet to try to read but it’s impossible. I can’t focus on any words, I have no idea what I’m even looking at. I give up and grab my phone and shoot a “good morning baby, I love you” text to David my husband. I might as well start my day.
Reading isn’t soothing me so I try to clean out my mailbox. I can’t concentrate. Words don’t look like words and I’m pretty sure I junked important stuff and starred junk. No response back from David so I call him, weird, it goes right to voice mail. I try to get back to reading, or emails. I wake up Sampi and take the dogs both outside to go potty. Like any normal day but something is off. Something is not right! I know it in my bones.
We come back in and my phone is ringing. My heart leaps, Caller ID says “Saturday nite delite” it’s David finally returning my call.
I hear his voice on the other side but he sounds miles away. He is in tears. His voice in agony, all I hear is “…..dad …taking me … hospital”
I drop the phone, throw my bra on, all twisted and skewed, grab Sampson (he’s my service dog. Not companion, not emotional support, he is my SERVICE DOG) and run out the door.
I text Davids dad asking which hospital, it’s 7am in the morning and it’s rush hour traffic. It takes me over two and a half hours to get to the hospital. Nobody is telling me anything. I’m racing, driving, texting my father in law. And not getting any response.
The night before David asked me to do some muscle work between his shoulder blades. They’ve been hurting him, his arms have been going numb along with his fingers which have been freezing cold, and he complained last night about having a hard time breathing. Also, with all the stress we are dealing with because if his brother!?!?! So all of this is going through my mind as I’m freaking out on my way to the hospital. For 2 1/2 hours I’m thinking my baby, my heart, my sunshine, the very air I breath is having a heart attack. And I can do nothing about it!!!!!!!
I get to the emergency room and rush in (how I got into the parking garage without causing damage is beyond me). David is laying out on the hospital bed. All hooked up to monitors. His face looking so gray, you can see the pain just etched into the lines on his face. He hears me walk in and barely cracks open his eyes. I’m scared, he looks awful. Where’s my strength? I grab his hand, it’s cold, but at least his grip is strong. Wait….his grip is very strong, as he squeezes my hand crushing it. I can feel my bones grind against each other as David withers on the bed in complete agony.
What the hell is going on?!?!?!!???
He has 2 huge kidney stones. I start laughing oh my goodness what a relief. The poor guy. He just can’t ever get a break. We are a family that believes if you’re going to do something you do it right. He has a kidney stone on each of his kidneys. The one causing him the most pain right now is 5mm by 7mm. Probably too big to pass on its own, we will see today at the urologist. There is also a huge mass taking up a quarter of his right kidney. Do you think my wonderful man goes through enough?
David does not do good with narcotics. He actually flirts with the nurses. If I didn’t feel sorry for him, I’d deck him.I can only imagine what these hospital walls have heard. If only these hallowed walls could talk, what stories they would tell.
They liken kidney stones to birth pains. Ooooh the poor man. I wish I could take away his hurt. I really do. He was moaning and groaning all night last night. He is still asleep. At least he can dream through the pain