Day 21

If you thought last night was hard to take, try this one on for size, I will try to make it as painless as possible.  Right when I woke up I had a stomach ache so naturally I went to the bathroom...classic.  For some reason it hurt to go pee, and I couldn't really go in the first place.  So that was strange.  Then I went outside to start feeding the animals, when my lower back started to really hurt.  It kind of took me by surprise and built up because at first it was just a little pain. I called my dad and he thought I might have a kidney stone.  The pain got stronger, and more sharp.  I limped inside to my bed, and called Kent.  Will and Kent were out at a dinner party the night before and slept at friends house nearby.  It was about 8 when I called them and told them that I needed to go to the ER.  Kent was a little hesitant at first as to why I thought I had a kidney stone, but after telling him my morning he quickly arranged for their neighbor to take me to the hospital.  I got off the phone and took some Advil to ease the pain, but ended throwing it up all back into the toilet.  Finally, the neighbor came to pick me up.  Now I had met Rick before at a dinner party, and he seemed like a nice guy.  Not the most intelligent, but nonetheless a nice guy.  So I got in the car, and this was when my courtesy and patience was still prevalent, hey hows it goin' Rick.  I hear ya got a kidney stone, eh? That was the start of a long and painful car ride.  Rick started by telling me, I remember my first kidney stone, back when I was a teenager.  Boy in those times, it was hard.  I remember my Dad's first Kidney Stone too, we was at home and his back started hurting so my mom told me to drive them to the hospital, course I had just gotten my license day of, so I drove them to the hospital and my mom was telling me go through the red lights! and ma Daddy as saying no don't do it!  Yes, that was how the 30 minute car ride went to the Emergency Room.  I was gripping my seatbelt to distract myself from the pain in my back, but nothing was working.  The pain would not stop, and it felt like someone was punching me in the kidney over and over and over again, showing no mercy.  Another thing: Rick was meticulous about driving the speed limit.  He said I don't understand why people have to be driving so fast, I mean I'm goin' the speed limit and that guy and those guys are prolly goin' 80 mph.  Why don't you drive a little faster Rick, because you actually have a reason too!  Of course I didn't say that, but I thought it.  We were heading into town, and he mentioned now I don't exactly know where the Hospital is, but Oh wait ok its this way.  I was so close.  Now where is that Emergency Room at?  Probably where the sign that says emergency is, Rick.  But I said, Oh right there!  He dropped me off at the door and I hobbled to the desk, where they asked me identification questions, and whatnot.  At this point, I could barely stand anymore, and every time someone asked me a question, my response first was: can you please put something in me.  After they got all of their mandatory information I had to wait in the waiting room, before I could get a room.  I was sitting there writhing in pain, and then Rick came in.  At this point everyone waiting in line before me, probably felt bad that I was behind them.  Right then, I got up and went to the bathroom, not to go number 1 or 2 or even 3, but a one way ticket to yack town.  I threw up, and i am sure my gagging could be heard throughout the whole waiting room, because when I got out everyone was staring at me, but I didn't care because the pain was worse than ever.  I sat back down next to Rick, as he asked me if I wanted to read a magazine.  No Rick, I do not want to read a fucking magazine.  In retrospect, Rick was probably just trying to take my mind off the pain, but in all honesty you can't, when its that strong.  After Rick asked me if I wanted a magazine, he struck up a conversation about high school volleyball.  So did you guys do a lot of off season training?  Yes.  Oh really? what kind?...no answer.  Long distance or short distance running? mainly short.  Oh ok.  Would Max Wyman please come into room 11.  Thank fucking goodness.  I barely made it to my room when the nurse told me to put on a gown, and i thought it was all taking too long.  She left the room as soon as I put it on.  No.  Please don't leave me.  I ran out into the hallway of the hospital, and pleaded, can someone please give me something? please?  The nurse will be in shortly dear.  I cautiously laid back on my stretcher, and impatiently waited while I groaned.  Kent finally came to the office, and I felt better, not just because that meant Rick was leaving but  because Kent was an anesthesiologist at the same hospital ( although no one recognized him...classic ).  As Kent and my nurse were making casual conversation, I was constantly moving and writhing in my stretcher trying to make the pain go away somehow.  I guess they both knew that within the next ten minutes I would be fine, but I just couldn't take the pain.  It was killing me.  It felt like someone was drilling a hole in my back.  Finally they started poking me with needles.  But wait, this was just IV.  And then the stupid assistant nurse messed up on the fucking bandaid.  Learn how to do your job mam!  I just about had it, and when they finally got the Iv in it took about another ten minutes until she put drugs in me.  I was feining for drugs, to put it lightly.  Then slowly, the pain started to melt away...  I started to ease in my bed more...and everything became...more...loopy...and.....sloooooooowwwwww.  I was happy though, just as long as my pain was gone.  I then got a cat scan, and came back to the room and hangout with Kent for awhile, and talked and talked about who knows what.  I can barely remember.  Then after some time the pain started to crawl back.  Drugs! I was injected again, and this time hit me hard.  Like a wall.  I felt it through my whole body.  But alas, I was pain free.  After some time waiting for my CT scan on disc, and chillaxing we left the hospital.  It was Kent's idea to get lunch at Chipotle.  Hell, I was still on drugs and that sounded fine to me. I ate half of my burrito because I didn't want to "overdo" it.  We got back to the farm, and I took the antibiotic they told me to take, and hung out around the house until dinner.  Watched some TV, read, but I was still kind of loopy.  When Kent said that dinner was ready, I went to the kitchen but didn't plan on eating very much.  I ate a couple pieces of tortellini, and stayed around for polite conversation even though I wasn't feeling all that great.  I went up to my room, and started to feel nauseas.  Once you feel that feeling, that terrible feeling, that feeling of putrid, warm, sweaty, insanity, it doesn't go away; until you puke at least...classic.  So that's what happened, I puked up all of lunch and my dinner, and it was a nasty one.  One of the worst I can remember.  I felt a bunch better, but I also lost a lot of fluids, which sucked.  Anyways, I sipped on some ginger ale the rest of the night, and right before I went to bed I took a Vicodin, which put me to sleep instantly.  So I guess. Nighty.