Will’s Stones

Last night, I was planning on writing a post about the truth behind that saying “It takes a village to raise a child.” I’ve been feeling that a lot lately, because I’ve been dependent on others to help me with the kids, while I’ve been taking care of Will.  But then I got distracted and decided to do some de-cluttering while watching old episodes of Project Runway (clearly, we party hard here).  Meanwhile, Will decided that since the computer was available, he’d hijack my wordpress account.  I’m flattered and humbled that he thinks so well of me.

It’s been a rough couple of weeks for both of us.  First, there was the terrible plague that struck down the kids and me.  Will took care of us through that.  Then, last Thursday, it was Will’s turn to need help.  I was out with Mellow and saw I had two missed calls from him.  I did not check my voicemail, and I’m glad of that, because had I listened to his messages, I probably would have driven straight to a funeral parlor and asked them about their rates and availability.  Instead, I called him, and I have never, in the nearly fifteen years that I have known him, heard him in so much pain.  He was on his way to Urgent Care, and needed me to meet him there.

I made it soon after he did, and the receptionist, when I told her I was there for my husband, shook her head in sympathy and said “That poor man.  He’s in so much pain.”  And he was. When I went back to see him he was shaking and writhing and could barely talk.

This has changed my opinion on kidney stones.  I previously thought of them as something uncomfortable and irritating.  I never realized that they could reduce a grown adult into a quivering mass of jelly.  I have suffered from (TMI alert) incapacitating menstrual cycles, plus I was in labor for fifty-six (yes, I had to spell it out because that number is so big) long hours with Wildling.  But I have never known pain like Will was experiencing.

They sent him home with a prescription for Percoset and the hopes that he would pass the stone.  I then spent several hours driving around town like a junkie trying to fill that damn prescription.  Apparently, CVS, which is the company our insurance requires us to use, has a policy that does not allow pharmacists to give out information about controlled substances over the phone.  Therefore, when you go to one and they are out of percoset, they can’t tell you where to go and they can’t call anywhere to find out if there is any available.  The third CVS assured me they’d have some ‘some time next week,’ and couldn’t answer when I asked how that helped my husband’s kidney stone now.  The fourth CVS, the one 45 minutes from my house, did have percoset, and it took them an hour and a half to transfer fifteen pills into a bottle with Will’s name on it.  Not a good day for Will.

So that was Thursday.  Friday, Will was feeling pretty good, so we decided to have a horrible crying filled day at an art festival.  And that night things took a turn for the worse.  Will spent the weekend suffering and sometimes vomiting from the pain.  Monday morning, we called his mom, Kathy, and asked her to watch Mellow while we went to the emergency room.  We spent the day there, while they gave him morphine and a CT scan and determined that the pain was definitely from a kidney stone – specifically a 6mm monstrosity (the scan also revealed two time-bombs in his other kidney – those are going to be fun).

And that was our 8th wedding anniversary.  We celebrated eight years of marriage together in the emergency room, while Will suffered and I read books and talked to doctors and called people to let them know what was going on.  I did take the time to kindly remind him that we had written our own wedding vows, and the whole ‘in sickness and in health’ thing was not included, so technically, I was not obligated to sit there with him.

He overnighted in the hospital, and late Tuesday afternoon had a minor surgery to place a stent.  In two week, he goes back and they will break the stone up with a laser and get it out.  Fun, right? This is the kind of thing that people used to die of, back in the days before modern medicine and fancy lasers.

My poor Will.  At least the stent has taken the pain and most of the discomfort away.  And sometime next week, we’re going to get to go out and have a proper anniversary dinner that does not consist of hospital cafeteria food.


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