So. Who remembers my kidneys? They look like other kidneys, I suppose. Except for the little rocks in them. I think of them as little white rocks, but that's not accurate. They're more... clay colored.
When last I checked, in February mind you, I had two such interlopers in my right kidney (which, incidentally I've named Jeckle). Jeckle has been feeling quite tender lately - for close to two weeks, actually. So last Thursday I went and peed in a cup like a good girl should, and this morning I had a few years' worth of ambient radiation in one big dose to the torso (also known as a CT scan).
Now I sit and wait for results, and try not to think about their implications. Hospital? Lithotripsy? Stent? Worse? Right. These are precisely the things I'm not supposed to be thinking about. Meanwhile, Mr. Kidney Left (a.k.a. Heckle, the instigator of all this madness) has been relatively quiet. But kidneys are a bit like conjoined twins: when one feels pain, the other shares it.
I do not relish these medically dominated times in my life. But I'm hoping that I learned enough from last year's experiences to make any future events a bit more bearable. Fingers crossed, eh?