I just got home from having a CAT scan done on my abdomen. After I spoke with my doctor this morning, he got to thinking that I had kidney stones, so he made a call to the urology center, who then called me and set me up with an appointment to see a urologist up at Lakeside ... Lakeview ... whatever it's called, the med center up near 168th and Center.
I swear, during the past couple weeks, I've had more men poking and prodding around my junk than I had during my bris.
The doc at Lake-whatever pretty much confirmed my doctor's suspicions, referring to my problem as a "textbook case of kidney stones." The only thing left to figure out was the size of the stone, hence the CAT scan. I should be getting a call about it sometime tomorrow.
In the meantime, I figured out that the intense, excruciating pain I've been having has a name: renal colic. Doesn't that sound lovely? And it's going to be moving from my abdomen to my penis as I attempt to piss out the stone. Oh joy!
Damned crystallization of calcium ... or whatever.
To quote the Minnesota Twins catcher, Joe Mauer, who has also suffered from kidney stones (thanks, Wikipedia), "I don't wish that on anyone."
RAmen to that.