I’m on drugs. Floaty.

I have an excuse, though. I had minor surgery yesterday. But the kidney stone is gone now! It got blasted. (Not…the sort of blasted…that I am now…) Broken into small pieces, blasted. It was all quite an ordeal. I didn’t care for the part where they had to anesthetize me…but…well, once I was asleep, I didn’t know. I’m SUCH a control freak.

According to the doctor I am quite the unique individual. Apparently my right ureter (the tube that runs from the kidney to the bladder) splits into two sections before reaching the bladder. So now I’m a mutant. If I’m going to be a mutant, why can’t I control the weather or walk through walls or something? THOSE things would be useful.

Out of kindness to the populace, I won’t describe the peculiar aftereffects of the procedure I underwent. Suffice it to say that I still have some pain, but nothing like the pain I felt with the stone. I’m still on drugs. And I have the urge to…er…go…frequently. Not necessarily a bad thing. All the rest…you don’t need to know.

Except, I like vicodin. All hail the great Viking, Odin! (See, this tells you how much under the influence I am. I actually thought that was clever and amusing.)

Thought for today: Sometimes, drugs are good.

Welcome to the wonderful world of….KIDNEY STONES!

Oh yes. Lovely, aren’t they? And they are an adventure. I know. I went to the emergency room at 2:30 a.m., didn’t get home until 7:30 a.m., and I’m still not rid of this little s.o.b. I’m still wishing for the I.V. and Demerol, but must make do with Vicodin every four hours. And coffee strainers. I’m not going to elaborate.

Pity me. Now!