Rule #26: Pick your ancestors wisely...*updated with picture*

So at about 6am on new year's eve morning (Wednesday the 31st) I woke up to some pain in my lower right back. At first I thought I must've slept funny and given myself a muscle cramp. I asked Meghan to massage that part of my back, but it had no effect. That's when fear of my imminent death began to set in. I told meghan where it was, but as the pain increased I was becoming fairly convinced it was a kidney stone. *cheer*

So I told Meghan we needed to go the ER, we called my dad who was good enough to come watch Evan. The pain was quickly intensifying, and just getting up to put clothes on and walk out the door was an ominous task.

We arrived at the lakeview hospital ER and fortunately there was no line, but the attendant had gone to the restroom, at which I was not amused. So I laid down on the floor moaning trying to make a scene (I did NOT do this because I am a wuss and couldn't handle the pain). After a very long 30 seconds or so she got back from the restroom and another nurse took my blood pressure and started asking questions I felt could've been asked later. After an hour or so (two minutes tops) of her questions they took me to a room and asked a few more questions and finally started an IV.

I had heard great things about morphine from others, and was hopeful that it would provide immediate and complete relief. While it did act quickly, I was moaning without regard to being in public for quite some time before the morphine got the pain down. I remember asking Meghan why I was still in pain if I was on a morphine drip. She explained that I was just on IV fluid and not a drip. This did not seem acceptable to me, but after several doses of morphine the pain subsided and so did I for about 4 hours. It only felt like about 30 minutes to me, but when I found out what time it was it explained why Meghan had been aimlessly perusing the pictures and videos on our camera. The wonderful girl didn't leave in search of entertainment or sustenance the entire time for fear I'd awake dissoriented without her there. Which I would've been, so I was very grateful in retrospect.

They sent me home with Lortab and put me on FLOMAX (hello 40's here I come). I was suspicious about the effectiveness of Lortab in comparison to morphine, but apparently you dont go home with a morphine drip.

After several hours of drinking constantly I passed the little calcium oxatate b****** that afternoon. And I mean little, there should be a biblical parable about it.



I was very fortunate, and even though the initial pain was excruciating, I feel like I got off easy after talking to relatives. Which brings me to the title, as I read up on kidney stones, there seems to be little direct causes of kidney stones besides genetics. And after asking around, I don't think I stood a chance. My grandfather davis has had no less than 5 kidney stones, 4 of which were impassable, my father has had 2, my mother has had 1, both of my uncles on my dad's side have had them, at least 5 cousins, 3 on one side and 2 on the other have had them. Most of those mentioned got their first stone in their 20's (statistically they are most common in men 40+), and I'm sure the list goes on. The point is, while drinking lots of water probably helps, having a good family history helps more, imho.

Pictures coming soon...