CoCo's Journey - WTF is a Ureter??

Enough said!!!

 It's been a rough couple of weeks.  But, this whole drama started on March 17.  Yep - St. Patrick's Day.  I woke up in the middle of the night and was in crazy pain.  I was sure my appendix was about to burst or something.  I laid there for a bit and dozed.  About an hour later, I woke up again and was in so much pain I couldn't think.  I called in sick to work.  I was so disappointed, I had my green beads and my four leaf clover earrings all ready to go.  Got up and simply dressed myself and dragged myself out to the garage and drove myself to IHC Hospital in Murray.  I just didn't want to wake anyone up, so I just did it myself.  

Tests were run; blood, urine, CT scan and all that regular stuff.  I was given medication for pain.  I was told that I had a kidney stone that was making it's way down to pass and that is what the pain was.  My emergency room doctor was amazing.  She said I should see a urologist, because there may be more in the kidney.  Called my oldest daughter when I knew she was awake and getting ready to go to work.  And then I notified the other two that I was at the hospital.  My oldest showed up just as I was getting back from my CT and she took me home.  Then she and her hubby went later that day to bring my car home from the hospital.  I am so grateful for my family.  

A couple of days later, I received a call from a urologist that the ER doctor had referred me to.  I made an appointment for a few days later.  When I talked to the physician's assistant that I was appointed to, he told me that I had at least one that was too big to pass and that I probably needed them "blasted" and it probably should be done earlier rather than later.  I guess that is because I gave them a urine sample and it was more blood than pee.  

A few days later, I received a call from the surgery scheduler and I was scheduled to be blasted on April 2.  Surgery went well.  He blasted a bunch of stones.  But, my ureter was "twisty" and they weren't able to take the stones out like they normally would.  So, they put the stent in and hoped it would allow the stones to pass, the ureter to straighten up and me to go on my merry way.  The ureter is the tube that attaches the kidney to the bladder.  When you get the kidney stone in there, that's when you start feeling the pain.  

Sorry, not sorry, to show you my stones. 
That is my kidney.  All that stuff you can see,
it's kidney stones.  Before being blasted.   

The next day I felt great.  I was outside in my garden.  I think I even mowed the lawn that day.  I took my granddaughters a couple days later and kept them for a couple of nights.  Went back to work.  Really didn't have much of an issue with the stent, just kind of the feeling that I needed to pee more often.  But I was doing great.

I had a follow-up two weeks later to remove the stent, but because they had not been able to remove the stones, I needed to have an x-ray to see if I passed the stones.  Well, yeah, we know the answer to that.  Because I am not simple.  The stones were not passing.  So, the next decision was made that I would have a second surgery.  They would remove the stones, take out the stent that was in there, and make sure my twisty ureter had straightened out.  By the way, my daughter - every time they talk about my twisted ureter says it reminds here of the story she saw ok TikTok about a duck's vagina.  A female duck's vagina is twisted to protect her from unwanted advances.  Think corkscrew.  That's what she says she envisions my ureter is shaped like.  

So second verse, same as the first.  Scheduler called.  Surgery set.  Showed up to the hospital on April 30 to finish this job.   Surgery went well.  They got all the stones out that they could find.  But, my ureter was still shaped like a duck's vagina.  So, a new stent was put in.  I was advised that I needed to keep that in for at least a week.  In five weeks I will have an ultrasound to see if my ureter is still twisted.  See my doctor a week after that.  And then a decision of whether or not I need to have another surgery, a much more invasive surgery, after that.  To straighten out the corkscrew.

This time, I wasn't feeling horrible the next day - but dang, I was tired!!  But, I mean, I had been under general anesthesia the day before and four weeks prior.  I went to lunch that day with friends, went back to bed. That night I went to see my granddaughter in her show and then straight to bed as soon as I got home.  The next day, I was still tired and starting to not feel better.  I ended up calling in sick Friday, Saturday and Sunday (an no, I didn't have enough time to cover it and I'm very skeeeered about my paycheck Friday).  

I already had a holiday scheduled for Monday and took my granddaughter, as planned, on a road trip to visit the county she had to do her report on.  It was a long day.  We left at 8:00 a.m. and got her home around 6:00 p.m.  There was no way I was breaking that promise.  She had worked so hard to get caught up on assignments and stuff so she could go.  My trash was kicked.  

Tuesday, I was down.  I was really down.  I ended up going to the emergency room.  Here we go again.  Blood tests.  EKG.  CT scan.  Urinalysis.  They really couldn't find anything wrong with me - other than, "at your age - things become more difficult".  

Ready for surgery number two.

While I was there, I found out my seven-year-old granddaughter was at the doctor with concerns about her blood sugar.  After a very long day, she was taken to the emergency room in Ogden.  Then she was transported to Primary Children's Hospital by ambulance and diagnosed with type one diabetes and ketoacidosis.  She was so sick, she was very close to being admitted to the ICU.  Kid spent three nights in the hospital, parents by her side and is so very smart.  She'll have this routine down in no time.  She's gained five pounds in a week, because she is hungry again.  French toast sticks, bacon and eggs are not safe to be around her.  

Wednesday, we went to the pharmacy to pick up some prescriptions and some things that my family living in the hospital room for a few days needed.  I walked in, walked to the pharmacy and had to sit down.  I had no breath.  I was weak.  I had no strength.  I called from that very spot to make an appointment with my primary care physician.  They got me in that evening.  I told him everything going on.  He's been with me since my liver disease diagnosis.  I told him with the way I'm feeling, there is no way I could go back to work.  He gave me a note to be off for the next month so I could see my specialist and see what the hell was happening.  He did ask for a urine sample and told me he was sending it to be cultured.  He sent me off with a new antibiotic to just cover me until we knew what the culture showed.

Four days later, I received a text message that my doctor had sent in a prescription.  This was on a Sunday afternoon.  Well, of course, I come back with not one, but two bacterial infections.  New prescription.  And hopefully the ability to get well again.  Not run out of breath walking across the room.  Not feel like my heart is pounding out of my chest.   Not nauseated at the idea of food but being so hungry I'm nauseated.  Not having to walk over hunch backed, because the pain in my belly feels like when I was huge pregnant and I just felt weighted down.  

AND, for the first time in six weeks, I do not have a stent in my ureter.  It was removed today - so I'm hoping that will help with recovering from the infections, too.

It's been a really terrifying couple of weeks.  It was so reminiscent of my first experiences when I started getting sick.  When I learned that not only babies and children in Ethiopia were malnourished (though they are much more sad).  When I learned the importance of protein.  When I learned about malabsorption.  When I learned about cirrhosis and liver stenosis.  I'm still not giving up.  I'm still fighting.  Today, I felt like the antibiotics may actually be working - I didn't die walking through the grocery store. 

Beef Stock.  Yummo.

 I'm not a good sick person.  I have a real problem with sitting around.  It's hard for me to relax and the last couple of weeks haven't really been an exception.  I've slowly got my garden planted, I watched my granddaughters a couple of days while the little one was in the hospital, I canned some beef stock.  It's a rough thing for me to sit still.  But, when I get hit and my body tells me I need to sit down - I listen.  I may get up again in a bit, but I make myself rest.    

If you've read to this point, thanks for hanging out with me.  It was a lot to write.  Even more to read.