A Rolling Stone Gathers No Moss

In other news, I continue to be a medical marvel.  I'm waiting to give birth at this very moment.  Give birth to a kidney stone, apparently.  I also have a kidney infection.  Want to know the best part?  I have no clue why this happened.

Is there a family history of kidney stones?  NO.



Do I drink anything other than water, besides the occasional glass of wine?  NO.



Do I eat rhubarb, sweet potato, beets, spinach, swiss chard, wheat germ, soybean crackers, okra, black tea, or beets?  NO.



Do I eat peanuts or chocolate?  Sometimes, but not regularly!



Do I eat grits, grapes, raspberries, fruitcakes, strawberries, marmalade, or liver?  NO.



Do I drink or eat a lot of dairy?  NO.



Do I drink any beverages that are dark?  NO.



Do I eat a lot of meat?  NO.


I continue to amaze myself with the stunts my body will now pull since I am apparently in the geriatric category.  You know, my life was just FINE and DANDY until I turned 30, and then my body went to total crap! 

Thanks to this latest development, I was "fortunate" enough to be one of the first patients to use the internal ultrasound in the doctor's new office unit.  Which means they were unaware that the GIANT framed picture they had placed across from the table just happened to reflect what was...happening...on the table.  The only thing more gross than the internal ultrasound is watching yourself experiencing the internal ultrasound.  I have been told they have corrected this situation since my visit.  (I also have a very, very, very crass nickname for the internal ultrasound, but a good Christian girl shouldn't say such things!)

So, I feel like an expectant mother, pacing the floor, going for walks, and trying to get through the discomfort.  Thankfully I have Devil Dog to pull me along on walks.  I'm sure the faster I walk, the sooner the thing will come on out.  I thought earlier that I was in transition because I had a great deal of pain and nausea.  I wanted to shout "CROWNING!" but no one was here, so no one would get the joke.  Besides, it turned out to be just a false alarm.  The Braxton-Hicks of the kidney world.

If you'll excuse me, I have to go drink my 45,000th glass of water for the day.