Twenty-nine days after I first felt an unexplained nausea, I finally passed my kidney stone from hell. A half centimeter of sheer agony finally just "dropped out" after weeks of agony, gallons of water, constipating doses of narcotics and a lithotripsy treatment that left unexpected large and ugly bruises on my thighs.
So, I've basically lost a month of my life. I'm used to losing days or even a week or more to my various degrees of illness these last few years, but I'm still reeling from losing a month. It's not that I was in bed the whole time - although a good deal of it was spent trying to either get comfortable by laying down or sleeping to avoid the pain - rather, it's that the nausea, pain and constant urinary tension never let up the entire month and it ruled my life. Except for a day or two, my life was ruled by this nightmare that my kidney decided to let go. Even better? I have 2 or 3 more in each kidney just sitting there. I've always had stones in my kidneys anytime I've been xrayed or CT'd, so I know that any time another one might break loose and start a hellacious journey again. Just great.
I'm getting good at getting back on my feet again. But I'm getting tired. Each "break" from life seems to last longer, takes more recovery time to get back up to speed and I lose days and now weeks I can never get back. When you're over 50 like I am, that takes on a whole new meaning and urgency. I want time with my boys, damn it! And I want to be a whole mom, not only partially there. They are SO good when I am sick, bless their hearts. They - and my wonderful hubby - never complain that mom is in bed again. And my daughters call to check in as best they can with their busy 20-something lives. They just come by with kisses occasionally and love it when I'm up again.
So, really, that's all I can ask, isn't it? Thank you, Lord, after all. Because I always have these lovely faces to greet me when I'm "back to life" again. Thank God. I'll never take that for granted.
Amen.
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