Rate Your Pain!

I had the opportunity recently to 'enjoy' the medical miracle of removing an irregularly shaped stone from my kidney by way of a long and flexible instrument the size of a spaghetti noodle.

This doesn't sound too bad, right?  Well, there is a reason the ol' sawbones does this while you're in a drug-induced state.

I said the probe is flexible, and it is, just like a remote controlled noodle with a headlight to look around in your pee-pee (it's so little by the time you're asleep, that it looks like a button on a fur coat) as it travels toward your kidney.  The thing also comes equipped with a mini scalpel and small adjustable fingers to grab stuff (in my case the stone).

Imagine for a minute, all that stuff crammed into your little pee-pee.  Makes for a delightful moment, right.

It's not bad enough that they go probing around in there, but then they may decide to leave something behind (a stint) so your water works will perform better -- but it has to be removed at some point, so you live with that mind game for a few days.

But, before any of this happens, you're visited in the emergency room by a lovely young lass named Jill, who takes all your vitals and attempts to make you feel good.  Fat chance of that happening with a boulder stuck in your plumbing.

The real fun for me came when Jill asked, "Can you rate your pain for me?"

I said, "Rate my pain?  What in hell does that mean?  It hurts bad!"

Jill said, "On a scale of '0' to '10', tell me how bad it hurts."

Well, I said, "If '0' is no pain, and '10' is like a gunshot wound to the penis, I guess I'm at about an eight, and by the way I think you're a '10'."

The last thing I remember, before the sedative kicked in, is Jill smiling.  I'm not sure if she was smiling about the rating, or if it was the button she was holding in her hand.