Posted on 05/15/2011 3:30:58 PM PDT by neverbluffer
Very painful, but I think worse for men as the distance the stone travels (length ) to the outside world...same reason bladder infections are more of a female problem than men...short distance for outside to inside....
'La bonne cuisine est la base du véritable bonheur.' - Auguste Escoffier
(Good food is the foundation of genuine happiness.)
LonePalm, le Républicain du verre cassé (The Broken Glass Republican)
Not personally but I have a friend who vacationed in France once and said they are wonderful when sauteed in white wine...........
I remember reading that passing a kidney stone is the worst pain a human can endure without losing consciousness because of it.
That would surely put it a notch above childbirth. I stayed conscious for 5 - babies, that is.
Bladder infections are another ‘absolute hell’. I did not realize that women were the only ones plagued with them.
The description you gave regarding kidney stones made me wince for men! I pray that I do not ever have to go through that. I’m a wuss when it comes to pain and I’ve had a baby! (had an epideral).
I'm not recommending you do that. I'm just telling you what I do. If you do take narcotics before going to the ER, make sure you tell the staff. The ER staff has told me that taking narcotics is a bad idea, but hey, they aren't the ones with the excruciating pain.
I’ve passed two in my life. The first one was indescribable. Writhing on the floor of the ER, I actually called out for my mommy. I was 29.
The best part was consulting with the urologist afterwards. He had a lot of fun showing me his collection of unusually large, weird kidney stones. Some looked like starfish from Mars. The Devil’s golf balls.
If you passed the Kidney .... and not yet out of the ahem tube, you are only 1/2 way through. As for the pain, only time in my life where I was trying to knock myself out.
I have...er...’gravel’.
But I did have a honest-to-goodness kidney stone a few years ago.
I’m a football fan, and for about 10 straight years beginning in 1994, I used to go with a big group of guys out to Buffalo, New York to watch the Patriots play the Buffalo Bills each year. It was always a lot of fun, and the size of the group ranged from perhaps six guys up to as many as 20, and the modes of transportation ranged from driving cars, motor homes up to chartering flights. It was a big party weekend, and we would usually stay at a cheesy motel that we called “The Fabulous Bluebird Motel”. It wasn’t quite the kind of place that rented rooms by the quarter hour, but neither was it the Ritz-Carlton… :-)
As I recall, it was about 10 to 20 miles from Rich Stadium, so on the day of the game we would have to all pile into cars or whatever other form of transportation we had to get us to the game.
On this one year, we had a large van, so on game day we all piled into the vehicle to drive to the game. I was sitting in the backseat, and my back was killing me. I’ve had chronic back problems since high school, so this was nothing new. As we drove to the game, my back became more uncomfortable, and more painful. Normally, what I do is squirm around and move my body until I find a position where the discomfort is manageable. Normally, when I get back pain like that, it’s usually something like a 6 on a scale of 10. Not excruciating, but it tends to get my attention to the point where it distracts me.
On this particular morning, the pain was different. It seemed like nothing that I could do diminished the pain, and it steadily got worse. At one point, I was curled up in the back of the van not quite in the fetal position, but pretty close. This pain was different, and I began wondering if I had something serious going on. All the while, I was looking out the window to see if we passed any hospitals or anything like that.
When we got to the stadium, I was all geared up in my foul weather gear, since the temperature was in the mid to high 30s and it was pouring rain torrentially. I had a few beers with the guys, but my mind was working in other directions. Finally, I knew I had to do something, since this pain was clearly not my standard back pain… it was somehow more internal and more unrecognizable. I had noticed as we drove in that there was a little “Doc In the Box” that was a couple miles back from the Stadium, and I had seen cars parked in front of it, so I figured it was open.
I found my best friend who still had my ticket, and I asked him for the ticket. This was a little tricky for me. I didn’t want to completely ruin his day (and the day of the other folks with us) by telling them that I was going to go to the hospital. This was a fun event for all these guys, and they looked forward to it all year. I didn’t want to ruin it. I told my buddy to go into the game without me, I had something I had to take care of. I told him to just trust me, and that I would be in the stadium as soon as I could take of business. I knew if I told him, he would insist on accompanying me. At that point, I just didn’t think it merited that. So he gave me my ticket, and away I went.
I naïvely thought that I might be able to get the police to give me a ride over, but after discussing it with them for about 10 min., I realized that it was just too complicated, they were going to give me a ride, and the only way I would get a ride is by falling down on the ground and getting an ambulance. But if I did that, it would elevate the situation to a much higher level, and there would be no going back.
So I cut off the conversation in midsentence and said (with a somewhat sarcastic tone) “thanks for all of your help…” and turned around and began walking up the road in the pouring rain.
As I walked up the road, the pain steadily increased to the point where I was having a little bit of trouble breathing, not because it was affecting my respiration per se, but the fact that the pain was making me gasp a little. Eventually I got to the front door of the clinic and walked in.
As I walked to the front desk, a nurse sitting there asked if she could help. As I opened my mouth to speak, the pain suddenly spiked to about a 9 on a scale of 10. I had my eyes closed, and my lips were tightly pressed together as I waited, unable to speak, for the spasm to pass. The nurse was clearly alarmed and said in a louder than normal voice “Sir, are you having chest pain?”
Still with my eyes closed and my lips pressed together, I raised my hand and waved it from side to side as I nodded my head side to side communicating clearly “no” to her. When I could speak a couple seconds later I told her that I wasn’t having chest pain, that the pain was in my lower back. They brought me in and had me lie down while they did all the blood pressure, temperature and personal history stuff. Then, they had me go into the bathroom and give them a urine sample. I filled the cup, and noticed without much interest that my urine was really, really dark and cloudy. (Note: I have worked in medicine for nearly 30 years, and I find it comical that even then I didn’t put 2+2 together… :-) I then proceeded to empty the rest my bladder, and distinctly remember hearing a small “plop”, but didn’t give it a second thought.
They came in a little bit later and told me that I had a considerable amount of blood in my urine, and they thought it was likely that I was having a kidney stone. They wanted to do an IVP on me, but I knew my wife would be very unhappy if I allowed myself to get an intravenous injection of contrast dye so far from home… even though I work in radiology and know that the hazards of contrast are somewhat small, I also know that one never knows… and I had never had a contrast injection before. So I took no chances, and politely declined the test. I explained my rationale to them, and they understood even though they thought that I should clearly have the test.
They gave me a container of Percocet for the pain, and I told them I was going to walk back over to the Stadium to watch the game. They all laughed, and one of the nurses said that she couldn’t let me walk, so she offered to give me a ride over.
By the time I entered the stadium, I had taken two of those Percocet’s, and felt just dandy, even though I felt like I had to urinate at least once every 5 minutes. The game was half over, and I finally got my seat at halftime. As I made my way to my seat to where all my buddies were sitting in their Patriots jerseys surrounded by a sea of Buffalo Bills fans, they made a big hubbub and were asking me where I had been. As I explained to them, I was overheard by the Buffalo Bills fans there, and they began yelling back and forth to each other “Hey, check out this crazy New England fan… he had a kidney stone before the game and came here straight from the hospital all pumped full of Percocet!” Even the Buffalo fans were giving me slaps on the back, and telling me what a hard-core fan I was… :-)
For my part, I just didn’t want to miss the party! Anyway, the rest of the weekend was fun, but the drive home was most definitely not fun. I don’t know how many of you folks out there have experienced the joy of driving long-distance in a van full of beer-drinking guys, but one of the curious things is that nobody wants to be the first one to say they have to stop to take a leak. I know, it’s a juvenile “guy” kind of thing, but it is what is. Needless to say, I had these guys stopping at nearly every tree along the way, and it took us a while longer to get home.
The next season, they opened up a space for me to be a partial season ticket holder… the custom when this happens is that they assign you a nickname, and you are then expected to purchase an NFL replica Patriots jersey with the number of your favorite player, and your nickname emblazoned on the back. (I know, this is standard stuff…)
There was plenty of discussion about what my nickname should be. For those of you who’ve ever been in the military or part of a team of any kind were nicknames are common, you know the hazard of this process. You hope with all your heart that you get a good new name, and not one like “Stinky” or something like that. You know from experience that once you get the nickname, it sticks with you, and no amount of protesting is going to change it.
The first name proposed for me was “Kidney Stone”. Now, I could’ve lived with that, but it would’ve taken a lot of explaining all the time to people who didn’t know. They ended up assigning me the nickname of “Part-Time”, because my best friend has the nickname of “Halftime” because he only made it to halftime in a cognizant state during one-game… :-)
So now, I have a nickname that I don’t have to explain to everybody all the time.
But all of you know it… :-)
Just thinking of a bladder infection gives me the yukky feeling...:O)
You wrote: “Today they use laser if you cannot pass them, it is a pretty pain less procedure.”
I passed one stone a few years ago from the right side... came out like a spit ball into the little basket the Doc gave me.
I had five stones more ready and waiting in the left kidney. Did the homium laser thing. Very painless. The nurse gave me the anesthesia, I blinked and woke up in the Recovery Room.
For the record, when I did have the IVP after I got home, my ureter was pretty stretched, but that was about it. Since then, every single time that I get back pain that doesn’t fit my template 100%, I begin to worry.
I was lucky. My stone was apparently neither big nor debilitating. I just got a little “taste”, and for that I am grateful.
I have passed blood on several occasions since then, and experience the nasty burning (like just this morning) but the pain didn’t make me wish I were passed out.
The worst pain up until that point I had ever experienced was getting hit in the toe by a steaming slapshot (and I had goalie skates on!) That kidney stone surpassed it, but I think it was because the pain was unknown and “inside” me.
I guess I will live the rest of my life with the same frame of mind that people do who live on the San Andreas fault. You know the big one is gonna come someday, but...not much you can do about it until it does.
One day at a time...:)
BTDT, never want to experience that again. Felt like someone stabbed me in the kidney.
I have had at least one kidney stone in the past but it passed immediately. The pain only lasted a few seconds before it was over. It was however very pad during it's passing.
A few years ago my wife had a very painful kidney stone experience and was hospitalized because of it. While in the hospital, they gave her an injection of Torodol and she said that the pain immediately stopped. She only had to wait in the hospital for a few hours before passing her kidney stone but once they gave her the Torodol, she suffered no more from the stone.
Unfortunately, Torodol is no longer available in pill form because it causes liver damage. There seems to be no problems injecting it in liquid form though.
Even though I was on Torodol for about four years I was blessed to not have incurred any liver damage. I wish that it was still available in pill form because it was so effective with for me at least no bad side effects.
Burns are worse, believe me. I've had both.
With kidney stones, you're desperate for somebody to help you. With burns, you just want somebody to euthanize you.
Lemon juice is good for reducing kidney stones (reacts with calcium) - acid/base reaction.
Also great for your liver and flushing out gallstones and breaking them down as well.
the stronger you can take it, the better. More diluted weakens it.
BTW if you only had a two hour stone you are just barely in the club. Thank your God that it was that short. I hope you don't have another. Good luck.
The pain is incredible.
My kidney stone happened while in Jamaica. It woke me at 1 in the morning (yes, on a Friday night). Pain that cannot be described. It made me a believer in torture. Anyone could have gotten me to do anything to get rid of the pain.
The woman doctor hit me in the left lower back with her fist and asked if it hurt.
Damn, it hurt more than cracking 2 of my ribs, more than my appendix rupture, more than 2 pinched discs in my neck.
Then she said that it was a kidney stone.
Then they gave me a shot of morphine. oh, heaven.
the drugs wore off on Sat night and the pain returned. God got more promises from me. Then more morphine.
Finally, the stone passed. Evidently, the pass takes about 48 hours on average.
my suggestion is to get real good drugs and drink lots of beer. An old friend of mine had 4 stones in his life. He drinks lots of beer and stands in a shower with the water as hot as he can take it.
Since the episode in Jamaica, it is apparent to me that lots of littler stones pass all the time. They are the twinges in my back. The same thing probably also happens to you.
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