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Is this not a stone I see before me?

kidney stone

Pissed out and retrieved another kidney stone last night. Strangely there wasn’t much pain at all. The other morning I felt a familiar twinge and thought I was going to have one of those weeks but started drinking a lot of water. The same last night and I guess it must’ve already been through the kidney. The crystals in this one are darker than the last. Don’t know what that means.

In other news, for the first time in 7 years I’ve been able to watch the tour de france, thanks to the internet. I’m getting torrents of the SBS australia highlights show, and the full (UK sport or some such) coverage if I want. Fantastic to see again, although SBS’ style has become increasingly commercial, and the race-coverage itself seems highly orchestrated—spending a bit too much time of the tourism cha-ching cashola.

I don’t know what the official policy is, but I’m under the impression that SBS have a hiring policy where they hire people from immigrant backgrounds – as in their parents migrated from somewhere else. Anyway, it’s good to see/hear that SBS must also think of country australians as an underprivileged group deserving special consideration, because Kate Bates is doing the inteviews on the Tour this year. They talk funny, they use strange expressions, they’re usually from poor background and if you thought they were weird, then take a look at their parents—rural australians. Let’s help them.

I have respect for the riders because it’s such a painful sport to devote yourself to, but when they’ve been having these big crashes and they’re all lying on the side of the road or whatever, they do look kind of pathetic, like upside-down turtles. Also, Peter Sagan: doping -> without a doubt.

, , — YS @ 12:52 pm, July 11, 2012

A + Ω

IMG_5692

I had another kidney stone over the last week or two. It came forth on Wed. night. It’s about the fifth over a three year period. This time of year seems to be the most likely for them to happen – when it goes from the warmer weather, which has me sweating pretty healthily, to the drastic drop in temperature and I’m not sweating at all. I was reading a bit more about them recently and apparently they are mostly calcium build up. I was under the impression it was caused by too much salt. I read that you can take them to science-people for analysis to see what the main element is but it seems like a lot of hassle.

Whereas the first three, in previous years, ended in an hour-long crecendo of stabby agony to the kidneys, the last two just involved a mild, angsty feeling in ‘me waters’ so to speak for a week or two. That feeling was enough to put me on notice to change eating habits (i.e. not too much for dinner, very little salt) and to glug down gallons of water. It was enough to flush it out.

The pain for me is when it actually goes through the kidney, not the urethra, as I’ve read is what what the worst part is for most guys. I’m grateful for that because I’ve read is terrible. There’s a pic of one on the wiki page that’s 8mm across (showoff). I couldn’t successfully photograph the one above with something in it for context but it’s 4mm across but that last stage, for me at least, is barely noticable so I must have a urethra like a fire hose.

When I look at this one closely it’s got all these jagged square geometrical shapes like a natural crystal. And this is not comparable to kids swallowing Lego heads or mules with drug condoms who shit them out again. You can get pretty much anything through the digestive tract if you put your mind to it. This was actually formed inside me. Not that I’m trying to glamorise it at all—I thought I was going to have a catastrophic meltdown right in the middle of working last Monday morning. But it does make me stand back and do a Keaneau Reeves whoah when I think that there’s geological features coming out of my dick.

, , — YS @ 1:04 pm, November 26, 2010

Napoleon III and ‘the stone’.

I am pleased to announce the first in a series of short pieces focussing on famous people through history and their ordeals with kidney stones.

* * *

Cast
– Emperor Napoleon III
– Dr. Henry Conneau, Napoleon’s personal physician.
– Marshall MacMahon, an eccentric fellow, (62 y.o.) quoted as saying, “Typhoid fever is a terrible sickness. Either you die from it or you become an idiot. And I know what I’m talking about, I had it!”
– General Ducrot

Sedan, France. September 1st, 1870.
After being caught and bested by the 3rd Prussian Army at Beaumont, the French Army of Chalons withdrew to Sedan, hoping to rest and resupply there.

Chateau de Sedan, Chamber room’s ante-room (Morning)

MacMahon: I say, one good thing about this turn; bivouacking in a Chateau’s a bit more comfortable than tents.

Ducrot: I would agree with you if we hadn’t spent the entire night sitting in this wretched little room.

[Dr.Conneau enters from the chamber room proper.]

MacMahon: Well Doctor, how is the old boy?

Conneau: No better I’m afraid. The stone moves slowly.

[Faint moaning emanates from the next room.]

MacMahon: I say, what’s that?

[Marshall MacMahon, spritely for his age, hops up, whiskers bristling and opens the connecting door but doesn’t look in.]

MacMahon: What are your orders, Emperor?

[Napoleon, still only heard but not seen.]

Napoleon: Oooh Gawwwd… you sort it out.

[MacMahon closes the door.]

MacMahon: Very well then. Where’s my man? Prepare my horse! I’m off to the field.

[MacMahon marches out. Ducrot facepalms.]

Ducrot: When can we expect the Emperor back on his feet?

Conneau: It’s difficult to say. He experiences great pain when passing water and the gravel by all accounts has not yet moved through the kidney organ.

[Several hours pass. Ducrot waits in the anti-chamber. The doctor passes in and out of the room from time to time.
Suddenly much louder wailing and moaning comes form the other room.]

Napoleon: OOOOHHHH! God in heaven have mercy on me!

[Napoleon is heard stumbling about, followed by the sounds of strenuous vomiting and wrenching. Durcot, dismayed, goes to the door, opens it and looks in. Emperor Napoleon III, his breeches down around his knees, is crumpled over the hollow wooden seat that serves as a toilet. The doctor stands beside him, hand on shoulder, looking concerned.
Marshall MacMahon abruptly bursts into the the antechamber, dirty and dishevelled. He is dragging himself on one leg but heads straight for the chamber room door.]

MacMahon: By Jove! What is this devilry, Doctor?

Conneau: The gravel is moving.

Ducrot: What news from the field, Marshall? Good God, look at your leg man. What happened?

MacMahon: Got us from both sides they have, Ducrot. Prong manoeuvre! I don’t like our chances.

Conneau: Marshall, you better let me take a look at that leg.

MacMahon: What this? It’s just a flesh wound.

[The wound is now bleeding steadily.]

MacMahon: However, I do believe I’ll lie down and have a glass of brandy. General Ducrot I’m putting you in charge.

Ducrott & Conneau: [simultaneously] What?

MacMahon: Oh? You like to have a stab at it Doctor?

General Ducrot: We are in a chamber pot, and we’re going to be shit on.

[The wrenching in the other room turns back to moaning. Several minutes later the Prussian Army bursts into the Chateau amid the hysterical wailing of Napoleon III finally passing his stone.]

… and the rest is history.

, , , , , , , — YS @ 6:50 pm, October 3, 2009

I’m Back!!!

That’s right my friends, sunny breaks is back on track, ready to get those big wheels rollin, rollin rollin on the river.

I finished my study for the year last Friday afternoon. It wasn’t a particularly auspicious ending – in fact I’ll be damn lucky if I pass that exam I wrote. But everything else has been so terribly backlogged this last three months that it’s hard not to celebrate. Celebrate by cleaning the bath, by trynna find a new job, by passing a kidney stone.

I can’t confirm that that’s what happened but I’m pretty sure. All week I was feeling a little funny and then last night it came to a head when I suffererd these intense pains in my right-back kidney. I didn’t think I was going to die, but I did think I was headed for the hospital er room—11pm. But just as I’d admitted the pain was too much for me, it ceased.  But not before I completely heaved my guts.

I used to be so good a vomiting. I would be able to get it all in the bowl – but while not as long as the last winning streak (9 years) this one, (2.5 years) was still quite a while between rides on the porcelain night train. It was quick. It was violent. It was thorough. I burst a blood vessel in my left eyelid.

All the innards have been feeling better today—thank god.

, , , — YS @ 11:47 pm, November 17, 2008

Sunny Breaks -> what your mother is reading.


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