The World Conspiring Against Me

The world, the Fates, God, or whomever is conspiring against me lately. A couple of weeks ago, I had some weird pains in my back on the left side. The pains struck me the early morning (3am!) that we departed for our trip to Philly/New York. It was uncomfortable, but I drank a lot of water and felt fine after awhile.

Then, Easter morning, I woke up with those same pains, only multiplied. It felt like someone was sticking a flaming poker in my lower back. I fought off the pain with water and ibuprofen, but yesterday, the pain migrated to my lady bits. Hot searing pain! By now some of you experienced people know, it was a kidney stone. I go me to an urgent care around 7:30pm. The pain! The xrays! The bloodwork! The peeing in a cup! I left at 9:15 with some paper urine filters and two prescriptions: cipro and vicodin (hello, good friend!).

By this point, I was dying. Or was wishing to die from the pain. But, I had yet to eat dinner. I drove to Wendy's. But the people in front of me were taking FOREVER at the drive thru. I seriously contemplated rolling down my window and yelling to get on with it. Then, then....it became clear that this truckload of young men were in the drive thru only to flirt with the ladies on duty. ARGGGGH. Overwhelming hunger, searing pain...I will kill you!!

Then, I drove to Walgreens. I was told the wait would be 1/2 an hour. I looked at the tech incredulously, mumbled something about pain oh the pain, and went to sit in the fetal position in one of the uncomfortable chairs. I paid $40 for Cipro..which at Meier Pharmacy is free. Why did I do this? Because Meier Pharmacy closed at 9pm. Then, I also paid $179.99 for my monthly prescription for my endocrine disorder that I had called in earlier in the day. Thanks, Walgreens, for raising that price $10. I'm sure you really really needed to do so. After repeating for the umpteenth time that I. Have. No. Prescription. Benefits. Yes. I'm. Certain. I finally got to come home. (Oh, and the Vicodin, nectar of the gods? $11).

Sweet Vicodin, thank you for the 16 hour pain-free stupor. Thank you for the grunting responses I made to our insurance agent who must be really confused after calling today. Thank you for everything.

It's now been 12.5 hours and counting since the last pain meds. So far, so good. Here's praying for a fast recovery. Otherwise, that History of Pastoral Care paper might be quite entertaining if written while on Vicodin.