Sunday, June 14, 2009


A couple of weeks before school was out I received a phone call from the school asking me to pick up my grandson and take him home. He was sick. But when I got to the school I found him not just sick but in excruciating pain. He was half cramped over, moaning, pale and clammy.
I asked where it hurt and he said here in my side. He put his hand on his right side.

I signed him out as fast as I could he had already gone to the car but he couldn't make it to get in and was waiting for me hanging on to the door handle with one hand and his side with the other. I knew he was in deep trouble.

This is one tough kid and he never complains even when he's very sick.

A few years ago a picture frame in his bedroom fell of the wall the glass had already been cracked and a piece of glass broke into a long sharp point and stabbed him in the back.
He had a huge deep whole in his back shoulder and he just came walking out of the bedroom into the kitchen and calmly said grandma the picture with the crack in it fell off the wall and cut me. He was so calm, so contained.

I walked over thinking it was just a little cut, but when I walked behind him to look at the cut on his shoulder I had to pretend to be calm. But believe me I was not calm.
He had a very deep wound, it was gaped open and about two and a half inches in length and blood was pouring out of it.
Wouldn't you know it was a day when I didn't have the car.

I tried to hold the wound closed with one hand while I dialed the phone with my other hand to call a friend to get him to the hospital. I made the call but the blood was pouring out around my hand.

She arrived within minutes and I grabbed a towel and off we went.
Using the towel to apply pressure didn't work so I tried to hold it closed all the way to the hospital but the blood was still escaping some between my fingers all I could do was hold it the best I could with one hand and use the towel to collect what was seeping through my fingers so that the blood wouldn't get on my friends car.

When we got to the hospital he had to have several stitches. He took it all like a man. Maybe better them some. My little hero, not a whimper, not a complaint.

So when he was whimpering at the school I knew he was in trouble. I rushed out of the school and found him bent over in pain by the car. We got in the car and started to leave the school and he was moaning terribly. We were only about a couple of blocks from the school and he started vomiting and he couldn't stop. I hit the gas like I was Mario Andretti determined to win the race. He vomited all the way home.

When I hit the long driveway that leads to my front door I started honking the horn like a crazy maniac to get the attention of my daughter. She didn't come to the door right away so I threw open the car door jumped out and yelled get your shoes on we have to get you son to the hospital. She came, we left. She did the driving to the hospital and I kept an eye on him. He vomited most of the way to the hospital.
I kept thinking it could only be one of two things a kidney stone or appendicitis.
But if it was his appendix it should be hurting more towards the front. It had to be kidney stones, but what had me fooled was the constant vomiting.

We got him to the ER. He had a kidney stone.
They couldn't do much for him except give him pain medicine and run a IV and try to flush fluids through him so that maybe he would pass the kidney stone that night.
We were there for hours but it didn't happen.
He didn't pass the stone, but the pain medicine made him very happy. Happy enough to keep teasing the nurses.
At one point he said he felt the stone move so he wasn't in any pain but still no luck getting him to pass it.
The next morning we were home and he still wasn't in any pain.

The day after that we were back at the hospital for the Urologist to evaluate what he wanted to do. He decided not do anything just yet except prescribe some more pain pills just in case and give my grandson four to eight weeks to see if he would pass it.

If he passes it were in good shape, if he doesn't pass it we have to think about surgery.

I am praying for the passing of the stone as though it is a religious ceremony.

School has been out for the summer, it's been much more then eight weeks and he still hasn't passed the kidney stone. The good news is that it is still lodged it's self in some way that he is still not in any pain.

My biggest concern now is where will he be when it hits again. I worry every time he gos somewhere alone.
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