The Great Kidney Stone Adventure

When I was 31 weeks pregnant with L.J., I took a spill that resulted in a brief hospital stay. Apparently Sister Bear does not want to be outdone by her big brother, so she took that spill and resulting hospital visit and basically blew it out of the water.

This will probably be wordy even for me, so let me come right out and say baby girl and I are both fine.

To begin…last week I was feeling a little “off.” I started feeling occasionally dizzy/lightheaded and I had an appetite that was completely insatiable. Tuesday I had hearty homemade soup, cheese and crackers for lunch…and then ran an errand and got a Steak & Shake burger and a banana milkshake. Finished both. It was borderline ridiculous how much I was eating.

Wednesday night I noticed that my lower abdomen was feeling a little sore, much like it had last month when I had a urinary tract infection. Not again, I thought. Fast forward to 3 a.m. Thursday morning. I woke up and thought I was dying. I was nauseous, alternating between hot flashes and chills and had a searing pain in my back. I immediately suspected some type of kidney issue based on what the doctor had said about kidney infections vs. uti’s last month. I went into the guest room so I wouldn’t disturb Mike and literally sat on the bed and cried. I was so miserable and in so much pain. He was up anyway thanks to my pacing and tried to comfort me as best as he could. We just had to make it to 6 a.m. when L.J.’s school opened. It was a long three hours.

We dropped L.J. off at school early (which did not go over well with L.J. to say the least…) and headed to the ER. It was blessedly nearly empty and so I was seen right away. A couple hours later I was released with a kidney stone diagnosis, two prescriptions and a list of instructions that included 8-10 glasses of water daily and staying active if possible.

Mike got me home and settled, and then headed off to work. I spent the day curled in a ball sleeping. When I wasn’t sleeping, I was throwing up. I couldn’t even keep a sip of water down. Lots of water and activity my ass. And the pain in my back. It felt like I was being stabbed repeatedly.

Friday morning I woke up and called the on-call OB. At this point I hadn’t anything to eat or drink in over 24 hours and was worried about Baby Girl. The doctor said to take Zofran and to drink Sprite or Ginger Ale instead of water. Mike got sent to the gas station at 6 a.m. for sodas. The Sprite was a no go, but the ginger ale stayed down.

L.J., bless his heart, was very concerned about his mommy. I was using the same white trash can that he did a few weeks ago for his stomach bug, and he brought it over to me and said, “I hold your frow-ups for you Mommy?” Sweet boy. He then saw a few abandoned Kix on my nightstand and said, “Yum! I eat these!” and washed them down with my ginger ale. “I like this Mommy!”

Friday was a repeat of Thursday, but at least minus the constant throwing up. I felt like absolute hell. I was on a narcotic pain killer and it was barely touching the pain.

Saturday morning marked 48 hours since I’d eaten and I’d only managed to get about 15 ounces of liquid into me. No improvement in symptoms, so back to the ER we went. I was admitted pretty quickly and taken to a comfortable room on the high-risk perinatal floor. (a.k.a. the hotel for pregnant ladies with problems)

I know a lot of people are pretty averse to hospitals, but I found it very comforting. I was in the right place to get better and I knew they’d be monitoring both me and the baby closely. The hospital was extremely clean, the staff was well-organized and the nurses were incredible. It really takes a special personality to be so caring and compassionate to people who are decidedly not having a good day(s).

Saturday and the first half of Sunday were spent resting. I was still in a lot of pain and too nauseous to read/watch TV/scroll through Facebook. I dozed in and out most of time, keeping a close watch on the clock because every four hours I got more pain medicine injected into my IV.

Let’s talk about pain medicine for a minute. When I got to the ER on Saturday, they gave me morphine. It did nothing. I mean nothing. I was sitting in the ER room shaking uncontrollably (from pain) and was absolutely miserable. So they gave me something stronger than morphine. I can’t recall the name of it, but I call it the cashmere sweater medicine. I kid you not, I could feel it going through my system. It felt thick and warm and for the first time in days I felt my back pain decrease from a twisting/stabbing pain to a dull ache. My body relaxed and I was able to get a little respite from the pain.

So anyway, you can probably see why I eagerly anticipated getting my cashmere sweater every four hours. Not to sound like a junkie, but it really did feel pretty awesome as soon as it was administered. Then I’d have about 20 minutes of feeling sort of normal, conk out for 45 to 90 minutes and then wake up for another mostly manageable hour. The last hour when the medicine would start to wear off was very tough. I had some wonderful heat packs to help, but the nurses didn’t even have to set a timer for the next dose – they could tell by how badly I started shaking.

Sunday morning my OB said that my goal for the day was to eat at least something every half hour. At this point, I still hadn’t eaten a thing since dinner on Wednesday. I managed a graham cracker square, a little broth and some orange Jell-O by mid-afternoon. It was progress, but not much. I had zero interest in leaving the hospital until the source of my pain was resolved, so I also wasn’t laser-focused on the clock to make sure I was eating every half hour. (The laser-focus was concentrated on my cashmere sweater, which I’d also decided was pink and fluffy.)

In the midst of all of this, I was having tests done so the doctors could figure out what exactly was going on and how to treat it. I had a kidney ultrasound and a CT scan. I survived the CT scan by scrunching my eyes shut as tight as they would go and saying the Hail Mary on repeat. I was not a fan of the giant-yet-claustrophobic machine, but at least they didn’t put my head through it. (I’d seriously have to be sedated if I needed an MRI.)

The urologist came by mid-afternoon and said that the scans did indicate what appeared to be a large kidney stone and that it was not going to pass on its own. We talked through different treatment options and I told him I wanted to do what he felt was the best option. And with that, surgery was scheduled for late Sunday night.

I wasn’t nervous about the surgery; it was laparoscopic and the doctor assured me it was safe for the baby. I was on my own since Mike was home caring for L.J. – so it was a wonderful surprise when my parents called and said they were on their way down to be with me through the surgery. It meant the world to me and I was so grateful and thankful that they were there.

I’ve never had surgery before except for wisdom teeth, so it was a new experience for me. It was very reassuring to have my parents there. Back in the OR I had to transfer to a hard, flat table. The team told me it was the new sleep number bed. I told them it must have come from the discount center. They talked to me for a minute to keep me comfortable as they got situated, then put a mask on me. I remember oxygen in the mask, then it feeling a little heavier and smelling a little different, then nothing.

I was dreaming, and then I wasn’t. It was like a movie. I opened my eyes – blind as a bat without my glasses – and saw all these blurry faces looking at me calling my name. It was very bright. And I was moving and could feel the air on my face. Oh yes…surgery. I must be done. I feel sort of funny. Holy cow the pain in my back is gone!!!!! The baby, how’s the baby?? Is she ok?? I think I garbled out that question six times in less than a minute.

I was taken to recovery and came-to pretty quickly. Definitely foggy, but lucid. They put the baby on the monitor for awhile – she was fine. I heard someone say that it was a stone, was pretty large and had been removed. I filled a bedpan full to the top twice. That was embarrassing.

Soon enough I was taken back to my room, once again so grateful that my parents were there waiting for me. I could not get over the night and day difference in how I felt. Four days of nearly unrelenting pain and it was gone!! Granted now my lady bits felt a bit worse for the wear…but that was still peanuts compared to the back pain I’d experienced.

My parents stayed for awhile longer, and then left for a hotel. It was past 2 a.m. at this point and they needed a little sleep before continuing home to Greenville. My dad had a meeting on Monday that couldn’t be rescheduled.

After they left, the nurses came back to put Baby Girl on the monitor for a while. She’d been disturbed enough over the course of the evening and was less than thrilled to have the monitor pressing on my belly and infringing on her already tight quarters. What was supposed to be a quick, 20 minute monitoring session continued for almost an hour. The nurse needed to get a good, solid printout of her heart rate and Baby Girl wasn’t interested in participating. The nurse was moving the monitor everywhere, following her around and trying to get a good read out.

We were about an hour into monitoring and I was exhausted. Things started to go haywire quickly. Baby Girl’s heart rate was dropping – from the high 150s to around 108. The nurse was very experienced and remained calm and controlled, but I could sense that she was getting worried. She brought in another nurse to review the readings. They put an oxygen mask on me and situated my bed so my head was angled downward. They called for the OB to come quickly.

It was strange because I was there, but honestly I was kind of out of it. I was so incredibly tired – it was almost 4 a.m. – and still a bit groggy from surgery. But I distinctly remembered from my fall last pregnancy that my OB said the most important thing was to stay calm so the baby wouldn’t be further stressed. So that’s what I did. I laid there, feeling half upside down, and focused on being very still and calm. I wasn’t really scared. I was concerned and getting more concerned, but I was in the absolute best spot to be if an emergency arose.

The OB came in and evaluated the situation. She reviewed the monitor printouts for baby, and my heart rate/oxygen levels. She was talking about some inconsistencies with the nurse – something about the baby’s heart rate not dropping for long enough or something like that.

She then put the baby on the ultrasound. It was a small portable machine, so I couldn’t see much from my angle. But she pointed out active movements, a strong and steady heartbeat and, by the way, she has hair.

After thoroughly reviewing everything the diagnosis was…Baby Girl was basically throwing a tantrum. Yes, seriously. The OB said that sometimes when a baby gets stressed or agitated that they will lower their heart rates temporarily. Everything looked perfectly normal, so I’d just be monitored a few more times to make sure nothing changed.

It was very much a relief to get the all clear and I suppose it’s a good story to tell after the fact. Remember, before you were born, how you threw a temper tantrum in the hospital in the middle of the night and got everyone into a bit of a panic…?

I managed a few hours of sleep after that, aided by the fact that my back pain was gone. It was replaced by an uncomfortable feeling in my lady bits thanks to the stent, but that was more a nuisance than anything.

Monday morning was a big occasion because I ate food! I had grits and apple juice for breakfast, first meal I’d had in over four days. Woohoo! Kidney stone surgery is generally done as outpatient surgery, so after a visit from the OB and several more checks on the baby (who cooperated for a change) I was given the approval to be discharged. After the surgery and subsequent elimination of my agony, I was definitely ready to recuperate in my own bed!

Mike came to get me at noon and we headed home. My week of recovery wasn’t going to go the way I expected…so yes, there is still a bit more to this story.