A good double...

Sunday, October 26, 2014
In keeping with my Saturday commitment, I headed for the park early Sunday morning.   Savannah met me with Copper for the hike, but I was doing the Survival Workout.  And it was quite a workout.  I’ve been doing some push-ups and dips here and there, but this was the first complete workout in several weeks.  I didn’t hit the numbers I’m used to, but the effort was there – and so was that great ‘pump’ that comes from a tough weight workout afterwards.  I headed for home around 9:30 a.m. with enough time to shower and make it to church.  I alerted Savannah that this would be my new Sunday morning routine.

I did some yard work after church and began preparation for the Sunday family meal, but everything was designed to fit around my ‘double’.  It was very windy and in the fifties, so when I suited up for a bike ride, I put on a long-sleeved t-shirt.  I had less than two hours if I was to have dinner ready for everyone, so I rode my Waite Hill loop minus the climb over Mulberry and returned home with an hour to get things ready.  I felt surprisingly good for back to back rides – the first since Tour Ohio last fall.  I’ve got some catching up to do and I know the coming week will be filled with raking leaves and other tasks after work.  The time is coming though when I will have the schedule cleared to work out every evening and I’m looking forward to that.

Bike Workout: One hour and 50 minutes.  Survival Workout: 60 minutes.
Training Heart Rate: 120 on the bike and 100-150 for SW.
Calories Burned: 1540 on bike and 600 on SW.

New directions...

Saturday, October 25, 2014
I started the day by meeting Savannah in the park to take the dogs on a 3-mile hike before heading to Mimi’s and a cup of coffee while discussing the events of the previous week.  They were numerous and eventful.  On Tuesday, October 21^st, I’d been forced to stand in front of a judge in Cuyahoga County Common Pleas to have my marriage of 39 years dissolved.  It was not what I’d wanted, but Holly had decided to move on with someone else and there was no stopping her.  I’d given it my best effort for 18 months, but she was determined. 

I made it to Saturday on pilot, but I had made a conviction to myself to get going on the workouts again.  I’d been using the excuse that I was doing physical work by day and then more on my extra jobs and therefore was staying in shape.  It was true to a large degree, but I missed the pump of the workout and the riding.  I needed to get them going again.

I raked for two hours at Mimi’s before heading to meet Savannah at her new town house to unload a sofa with Jason and get the remainder of the heavier furniture.  We carried it in and then went for the bed, dresser, table and other miscellaneous items.  After sweating and carrying, I returned to Mimi’s to pick up on the raking, but the winds were so strong that the leaves were completely uncooperative.  We gave up.

I got home and immediately suited up for a ride.  Since I hadn’t ridden in a month and only several times all summer, the prudent thing to do would have been my 25-mile loop.  Prudent yes, but not the Cowboy way.  I rode into Waite Hill and turned east for Kirtland and my Mulberry route.  It was hilly, windy and had me quite fatigued as I rolled the last of 32 miles into the driveway feeling pretty good about myself.  I needed to fit exercise in.  It defines a large part of the person I am.  There is always time if I’m willing to give something up.

Bike Workout: Two hours.  Hike:  One hour.
Training Heart Rate: 120 bpm biking.  75 hiking.
Calories Burned: 1700 biking.  375 hiking.

Heading for home...

Monday, October 20, 2014

Sunday – eight days ago:  I’d climbed into my tent the previous evening as a slight rain was falling.  This forced me to pull the rain fly over the tent knowing that again, I would miss the opportunity to see a North Country big sky.  I turned on my head lamp, picked up a copy of Pat Conroy’s ‘The Lords of Discipline’ and read for an hour before falling asleep.

It had cleared overnight and as I packed my tent for the trip home, I imagined I might catch some good pictures along the way.  I made my way to the Noon Mark for one final meal for 2014 before driving north to the spot of my favorite crumbling red barn in a field just off SR 73.  With a frost on the ground and an early morning mist rising off the meadow, mountains flushed in autumn colors in the background, it provided an excellent photo opportunity.

I drove home through the mountains making numerous stops to photograph beautiful lakes and streams.  I made Utica around 10:30 and was home by 4 p.m.

It was a short, hurried trip and yet seemed to accomplish all its goals.  I’d had time alone to think about my next move in my personal life while getting some great time with my cousin and a chance to discover two more scenic, lightly used trails.  It was family dinner night and thankfully the girls had put it together and all I had to do was eat.  I’m hoping in the coming weeks that side jobs after work will settle down and I can again get into some pattern of exercise.  I’ve gone a summer riding only 5 times, which is an all-time low for me…ever.  Though I’ve maintained fitness from the physical nature of my work, I still miss the pump and buzz of doing a tough workout.  Once all the leaves have fallen and been raked into the woods or the curb, storms put in and water turned off, I should be good to go.

Eating and hiking...

Friday, October 17, 2014

The previous Saturday:  I slept soundly in my favorite parking lot with no cars coming in the night to disturb my sleep.  That’s what happens when you arrive at 1:45 in the morning, I suppose.  Unfortunately, there was cloud cover and no stars, but also no rain.

I knew Donnie was planning on arriving at the Noon Mark around 9 a.m. and since he drives like a ninety-year old lady, it would likely be later than that.  I anticipated a big crowd there for breakfast and didn’t want to tie up a table for too long, so I waited until 8 to drive over.  I have a particular table I like to use when I’m there; it’s a 4-top but smaller and has an outlet under the table that works, which allows me to recharge my phone.  And my phone was d.e.a.d.  When I walked into the diner, I found a young couple sitting at my table.  They appeared to be finishing up, but no matter.

“Hi there…excuse me.  You seem to be eating at MY table,” I said.

They looked at me, puzzled.  “Um…we didn’t…what?” the man said.

“My table.  This is my table and I’m here and you’re sitting at it and either you’ll need to get up or I’ll sit in that empty chair next to you,” I said.

“We come here all the time and I’ve never seen you before,” she said.

“I live in Ohio and I come here about four times a year and when I do, I sit here so I can charge my phone and see the door so I know when my cousin – or cute chicks – are coming in.  And now I’m here.”

I stood there staring and in the awkward silence, they blinked.  Grabbing their check and belongings, they proceeded to the cashier and I sat down in their mess.  Well…at least that’s what I think happened.

Donnie arrived around 9:15 and I ordered a Western omelet and three pieces of rye toast.  Mindy, granddaughter of the owner and part-owner herself, was our waitress.  Her Aunt Rosie was working the other room and not looking too happy.  Maybe the force of my arrival had bothered her.  The place was bustling so I didn’t engage poor Mindy in my normal, light intellectual banter but instead, let her work.  I did warn her that we’d be taking a short hike and likely returning for lunch in the early afternoon.  I could sense her pleasure in having me there for two meals in the same day – a natural reaction.

I knew Donnie was not looking to hike ‘up’ anything and he somehow got the idea we’d be hiking horizontally from something I’d said, though I’m unclear as to exactly how he got that impression.

“We’ll just take an easy hike on something horizontal,” I said as we walked out of the diner.

“You promise?”  He knew me.

“Of course…sure,” I replied as we climbed in the car for the drive to the Au Sable Club parking lot and a hike to Cathedral Rock.

But when we arrived at the parking lot, it was loaded to overflowing with cars lined half a mile to either side of the entrance on Rt. 73.  There was nowhere to park and plan B kicked in.  “I’ll drive to Mt. Gilligan just outside of town.  It’s away from the leave-watching crowd and will likely be easy to get to,” I said.

We stopped to view a waterfall along the road and arrived at the trailhead parking lot to find only two cars there.  Perfect.

We hike about a quarter mile into the secluded woods past a private cabin before reaching the first of two steep inclines on the 1-mile hike to the peak.  I wasn’t sure if he’d noticed and I scrambled up quickly trying to make it look level.  Ten minutes later, he reached my perch at the top of the climb breathing heavily and limping on a sore knee.

“Really pretty views of the fall colors from just around that bend,” I said as a way of distracting him from what he’d done and still had to do.

“You son-of-a-bitch.  You did it again.  This isn’t FLAT!”

“It’s…I…um…well, shit Donnie – how could you think a hike on a trail with the word ‘mountain’ in it was going to be flat?  Besides – I’ve been lying to you for what, 58 years?  When will you ever learn,” I said.

He waited at that point while I continued the climb to the top.  There were some very good views and pictures and by the time I returned to his resting point, I’d broken a good sweat and was beginning to get my appetite back.  We returned to the car and drove back to Keene Valley for lunch, which consisted of soup and a smoothie.  Donnie got on the road after lunch, needing to return home to stoke his furnace.

It was only three, which allowed me enough time to climb something short.  I found what I needed, Baxter Mt., and made my way to the trailhead for an easy, 2-mile hike to its wonderfully scenic peak.  It is truly amazing just how much of a view you can achieve with simple, lightly-used trails.  The crowds head for the well-advertised, larger peaks and I get that, but it really isn’t necessary.  I shared mine with four other people where on Giant Mt., there were likely over 100 climbers that day.

I finished that day back at Noon Mark for dinner and some journal time.  It hadn’t been rigorous hiking, but had been so rewarding.  I was sure I’d gotten some excellent pictures and felt very pleased with the 12 hours of daylight I’d enjoyed in the mountains.

Hike duration: Three hours.
Training Heart Rate: 90 bpm.
Calories Burned: 750.

It's a go...

Wednesday, October 15, 2014
The previous Friday:  I drove to work still undecided about the Adirondacks.  I hated to spend all that money on gas just for a 24-hour trip and yet I knew I needed it.  I had some important thinking to do and felt the best place to get it done was around a campfire alone with a big sky overhead.  In any event, the car was packed with everything I needed to hit the road right after work.

By three o’clock I was sure.  I drove home to say goodbye to Savannah and do a couple of chores and then hit the open road by 4 p.m.  According to my GPS, I would be arriving in Keene Valley a little past midnight.  Normally, that would mean the public parking lot and sleeping next to my car under the stars, but I’d found a campsite just off the road  ten minutes south of Keene Valley on my last trip and was planning on going there and setting up my tent.

It was a playoff night and without an audio book, I searched for a station that was covering the game.  Kansas City was playing Baltimore and looking tough after sweeping the Angels in the second round.  I was rooting for them since they were from our division and had nosed the Indians out of the playoffs.  There is something quite soothing in listening to a well-called baseball game on the radio – for me anyway.  I enjoy it more than watching and maybe it is just the return to my youth and the days of summer when a game would be playing somewhere as people in the neighborhood enjoyed whatever they were doing while listening to the play-by-play.

I exited I 90 in Utica and began the trek north on State Route 8 – a winding, scenic, smoothly paved road that passed through picturesque Adirondack towns and by many clear mountain lakes and streams.  It was 10 p.m. and pitch black, so I was seeing none of it, though.  I was traveling along at 60 mph when suddenly a large, beautiful buck ran across the road and into my headlights.  I pulled hard to the left and the car swerved and slid to avoid the animal.  I may have clipped his back leg, but was too busy correcting the vehicle back onto the road to have any knowledge of his condition.  Heart pumping, I managed to gain control of the car and, with added caution, continued north.  I pulled into the last open gas station in Poland, NY and filled up.  As I left the station listening to the game, I thought I heard and unusual sound coming from under the car.  Stopping and rolling down the window, I heard more clearly the all too familiar sound of a flat tire.  Fortunately, I had enough air to return to the station and change the tire.  One very nice thing about the Toyota Corolla is the spare is the standard sized tire for the car, not one of those silly doughnut things.  I had to empty the entire contents of my drunk, jammed with tools and camping gear, onto the parking lot to reach that lovely spare though and, in 20 minutes, was back on the road.

The game went into extra innings and kept me company almost to my destination with KC winning in the tenth.  I pulled off the road about 1 a.m. quite exhausted and ready to crash.  To my surprise, someone had discovered my secret, hidden tent site and so I turned around and drove into Keene Valley and the public parking lot where I’d spent many a night sleeping next to my car waiting for dawn and a trip to the Noon Mark Diner for breakfast.

Should I go to the Adirondacks?

Tuesday, October 14, 2014
The previous Thursday:  I’d wanted to go to the Adirondacks to see the fall colors the previous weekend, but the weather forecast was horrible and I decided to visit my Aunt and Uncle in Cape Vincent instead.  It was now getting quite late in the season; temperatures were dropping into the 30’s in the mountains overnight, but I checked the weekend forecast and it called for sunny weather in the fifties on Saturday.  I could drive up Friday after work and arrive there around midnight and then have all day Saturday to hike and snap pictures before driving home on Sunday, but was it worth all that driving for 12 hours of daylight in the mountains? 

“I’m thinking of driving up there tomorrow night,” I told my cousin Donnie when I reached him.  “Can you make it down for a night and a couple of meals at Noon Mark?”

“I could be there for the day, but I have to get back to stoke the furnace so I can’t camp out,” he said.  For him, it was a little over a two-hour drive to Keene Valley, but, like me, he knew it would be worth the trip.  He warms his house with firewood and needed to be back in time to replenish the furnace.  Living that far north means a long heating season.

“I’m ninety percent sure I’m driving up after work tomorrow so I’ll call you when I’m on the road to let you know for sure.  I think I need a day in the mountains to do some thinking and writing.  And I need a couple of home-cooked meals at Noon Mark,” I said.

I spent the day at the farm trying to do some rather physical work to make up for the fact that I wouldn’t have time for a workout that night.  I dug some fence postholes by hand, which did the trick and then went to work one of my evening jobs after, cutting a lawn.  I still had a little daylight once done with the lawn and went for a hike around the Metroparks doing a mental inventory of my gear as I walked.  Inevitably, I would get up North and find I’d left something back home.  A two-day trip didn’t need too much planning though I had to have my camera, sleeping gear, tent, the right clothes, my writing material,  headlight, some food, and some money.  Everything else was a luxury.  I didn’t have a functioning CD player in the car and so I would be without audio books, which was a concern.  I’d need to entertain myself for eight hours and though I am fascinating company, it was a long time.  I drove home and began the process of packing the car with everything I would need if I decided to go.  I was still uncertain when I climbed into bed.

It's been while...

Monday, October 13, 2014

Has it been that long since I last wrote?  So much has happened in the interim.  I left the YMCA and started working at Fieldstone Farm doing the job my brother Jim was managing when he died four years ago.  My son got married to a lovely lady.  I’ve been to the Adirondacks twice and my right heel has been hurting since it started to give me greater problems on August 12^th, the date of my last entry.  Let’s back up a couple of days to getting started again.

It was Wednesday night and Jack was asking me to do a Survival Workout.  I met him at the park and we went through a pretty rigorous workout, particularly for someone who hasn’t worked out hardly at all for several months.  The workout did not prove too difficult considering the layoff and I can only attribute that to the very physical nature of the work I’ve been performing both on the job and during my side jobs I do in the evenings and on the weekends.  It’s been pretty much seven days a week for that same period of time during which I think I’ve done two Survival’s and two bike rides and that’s it.

“You have to start working out again, dad, and you have to start writing, too.  It’ll make you feel better,” Jack said as we worked our way down the trail to another station. 

We also discussed the Paleo Diet.  He is very interested in eating healthier and knows he is a victim of whatever is in the house. “If we have good stuff, I’ll eat it,” he said.  And he will.  With Savannah moving out in two weeks, it will be just the two of us and the perfect chance to figure out a new eating pattern.  “We’ll go shopping as soon as we eat all the crap that is in the refrigerator now – I’m not throwing food away,” I said.

I had an excellent pump when we returned to the car and Jack mentioned how I need to walk with my shoulders back and chest out – like he does.  “You’ve got to show off a little otherwise what’s the point of working out?”

“Well…it makes me feel good,” I said.  He grinned like, sure, that’s a good enough reason, dad.  He may be doing it for the girls.

Survival Workout: 60 minutes. 
Training Heart Rate: 100-150 bpm.
Calories Burned: 600.

A short, painful run...

Tuesday, August 12, 2014

I was driving home and thinking about a workout.  Jack had suggested we meet for a Survival Workout, something he hadn’t done in a long time.  He’s always looking to change up his routine, which is a good thing and had wanted to go before I left for work.  Clearly, he didn’t know what the world looked like at 5 a.m.

“Jack…maybe after work?  It would be pitch black if we tried to go to the park before I work.  You do know about sunrise and it happening long before you wake up…right?”  I said.  He agreed that after work was better.

I knew I’d be driving past Headwaters Park on drive home and decided I’d get in a short run in addition to the Survival Workout.  I haven’t been doing much weight bearing exercise lately and with all the hiking I could be doing over the next several days, thought it would be a good idea.  I arrived just as a thunderstorm was concluding and found the parking lot empty.  I changed right there and started a slow jog down the bridle trail that ran along the reservoir.

The first part of the trail winds through a camping area, which is in the midst of a stand of conifers.  With a lean-to in place mingled with the smells of the pines and the lake nearby, it reminds me so much of places I’ve camped in the Adirondacks.  There was someone using the lean-to and a kayak on the shoreline.  This truly is an ideal site for someone testing the waters for back country camping.

I’d only run about a mile when my right foot began to give me pain with each step.  I tried running through it, but it persisted to the point that I stopped to walk it off.  It continued for several minutes before finally dissipating so that I was able to complete about 15 minutes of running.  I was hoping for 20, but saw no sense in pushing it with the pain I was experiencing and the fact that I hadn’t run a step in four weeks.

Once home, I knew I was done for the evening.  I had packing to do for the trip and my foot and ankle remained sore.  I convinced Jack to go with Savannah and the dogs and do the Survival Workout between playing with them.  He tried to guilt me into going, but I’m too old for that trick.

I finished the beef stew and drank about 30 ounces of water through the evening.  I’ve been filling my 20-ounce sipping cup I took from the Clinic at least twice a day, which is 40 ounces more than I ever drank before.  I’m trying to be particularly sensitive to my fluid consumption with the trip I’m planning.  I really don’t want to end another one with a trip to the ER.

Run Workout: 15 minutes

Training Heart Rate:  140 bpm.

Calories burned:  250

Aborted kayak run...

Monday, August 11, 2014
Since I knew I was heading for the Adirondacks Wednesday, I contacted my good friend and Adirondack climbing partner, John, to see if he wanted to join me.
“Things are kind of crazy with the new house, the job and stuff like that,” he said.
“I completely understand.  And if something happens to me in the back country…you know, another kidney stone or something…I don’t want you feeling guilty that you didn’t come along to keep an eye on me,” I said. 
I also mentioned I’d put our conversation in the blog so everyone would know and he could feel complete guilt. 
Actually, I’ve never felt better.  I’m drinking lots of water and am pain free.  I plan to camp in areas close to civilization so I don’t have far to go if something should go wrong and I plan to climb some well-traveled trails instead of the unmarked ones where I could easily go all day and not see another person.  This is more a trip to have peace and serenity.  I’ll take a book and a journal so I can read and write.  It may rain, so I could be stuck in a tent with black flies hovering outside the bug net barrier just wishing they could take a shot at me.  My cousin Donnie will try to join me on Friday on Cranberry Lake where we will once again try to explore the lake without incident.  We’re 0 for 2 on that score, but hopeful.
Marie Lorentz stopped for a visit.  I’d coached her incredible high school running career, which ended with a 6^th place finish at the state meet three years earlier.  We were hoping to catch up while paddling kayaks on the Upper Cuyahoga River, but the weather conspired to keep us from it.  Instead, I made her a killer smoothie and we discussed health, careers, and the value of family and good friends.  It is such a pleasure for me to have had enough of an impact on young runners that they seek me out when home from college for a visit.  She is a special one.

I had some leftover beef stew after she left, so heavy on the calories and no workout.  I’m hoping for a short run and a Survival Workout tomorrow.  I’d thought about some hiking with a backpack before the trip, but at this point it matters little.

An early morning ride...

Sunday, August 10, 2014
I was awake by 7 a.m. and thinking I had ample time before church to get in some exercise.  My first thought was to head for the park with the dogs and do a Survival Workout, but then considered that in four days, I could be back in the Adirondacks hiking some rigorous trail.  I needed more conditioning without a doubt.  I changed into my cycling gear and headed for Waite Hill.
Riding early mornings on the weekend is so pleasurable.  The air still has the taste and smell of morning dew.  The roads are mostly clear; no one driving much before the churching hour.  I managed to ride the first seven miles with hardly a car passing me.  I could actually feel the air on my arms as I sped down a hill, it was so heavy with moisture.
I rode with vigor, pushing up hills wherever the opportunity presented itself.  Riding is not hiking, but the cardio requirements and the extra work on the thighs and calves serves a hiker well.  I had a plan to do a 15-mile hike on Thursday, which would include a 3,000 foot elevation change.  From what I’d read, the trail was challenging and offered little opportunity to get water.  I would have to be carrying several liters, particularly since dehydration did some pretty nasty things to me.
I finished the ride feeling strong once again.  Savannah was headed to the park to take the dogs for a hike, so I joined them.  Once back home, I had some meal preparation for Sunday family dinner.  My father-in-law was bringing over city chicken, but had asked me to prepare some potatoes.  I decided on home fries, Grandma Paula style, which meant very fatty.  I fried eight strips of bacon and then dumped the cubed potatoes into the pan.  I spread some butter over the top of them and crumbled in the bacon I’d cooked.  When Jack sat down and too his first fork full, a smile crossed his face.
“Dad…these are REALLY good,” he said.  He’s trying to eat healthier…between cartons of ice cream…so I didn’t tell him how I’d made them. 
I think I’ve discovered that to be a reasonably good cook, simply add bacon and butter.
Bike Workout: One hour and 50 minutes. 
Training Heart Rate: 120 bpm biking.

Calories Burned: 1540.

A full day...

Friday, August 8, 2014
I was feeling like a million bucks since having the stent removed.  What a difference such a small change can make.  It left me continuing to wonder how people manage to do with permanent discomfort.  I guess there much tougher than I’ll ever be.
I had some work to do.  I’d been looking for the right conditions to stain Joan’s deck and they were finally presenting themselves.  I drove to her place for the job, which I figured would take me the better part of the day. 
It was hot and I was in the sun.  I needed to take each spindle off the rail, there were over 75, set them aside to be brushed out, and do the area from which they’d been mounted before returning them.  It was tedious and boring and the sun was beating down on the back of my neck.  I knew I was getting too much sun, but was without sunblock and feeling like I just had to work through it. 
I worked all morning and by four in the afternoon, realized I’d be pushing up against the dark with what I still had to do once the deck was stained.  I’d arranged to drive the Toyota to Dan’s for some brake work.  I had the bike stored in the back seat for the ride home from his place – about 18 miles.  I arrived there exhausted and began pulling the bike from the car.
“You look pretty tired.  How about I give you a ride home?” Dan asked.  It was quite tempting.
“It’s time to toughen up some,” I said.  “I’m planning on a trip back to the Adirondacks next week before I start the new job and I’ve got to get back some of my conditioning.”
He promised to have the car ready for that trip and I pedaled out his drive wondering how my body would respond to the ride.
It went quite well.  Chardon is the highest point in Northeast Ohio, so riding from there means essentially downhill.  The only problem with that theory is that between my house and his is the Chagrin River Valley.  I enjoyed reaching the river, but had to climb out of the valley for the final miles of the ride.  It proved to be no problem at all and I was quite pleased when I rolled into the driveway in one piece and feeling like I could have gone lots farther.
Bike Workout: 60 minutes. 
Training Heart Rate: 120 bpm biking.

Calories Burned: 840.

Stent removal...

Thursday, August 7, 2014
“Just take your trousers and shorts down and cover yourself with that cloth.  Then I’ll numb you up for the procedure,” the nurse explained.
I had a pretty good idea what ‘numbing’ me up meant.  I’d finally figured out that the stent removal was happening through my penis.  There was no getting around this realization and so that meant she’d likely be sticking a needle in it for the numbing.  I couldn’t help but wonder if the cure would be worse than the ailment.  I asked her to go over what was going to happen and why I’d been having so much discomfort for the past two weeks.
“Well…it’s pretty normal.  The stent is two feet long and stretches from your kidney to the tip of your penis,” she said.
“So that’s why I’ve felt like I needed to go to the bathroom with every step I’ve taken since you put it in?”
“Sure,” she said.  “Didn’t they tell you that when you had it put in?”
“I really don’t know what they told me when they put it in.  I think they put me under and then explained the procedure so it wouldn’t freak me out but could still get credit for having told me,” I said.
She brought the needle closer and I began to squirm and tense.  “This will give you some mild discomfort,” she said as she reached beneath the sheet I had covering my privates.  You think?
And she was right.  Five minutes later, the doctor entered the room and we discussed what was about to happen.
“I’m going to look around with my camera and see if I see the stone.  You can watch on the screen,” he said while indicating the monitor over his left shoulder and angled so that I could catch glimpses of the inside of my bladder and other parts.
“My lucky day,” I said.
He plunged in and I flinched.  No amount of numbing was going to make this procedure pain-free.  I watched on the screen as he excitedly explained that he could see particles of the stone.  He gave some kind of a tug and for about 5 seconds, I wanted to grab his head between my hands and squish it like a rotten pumpkin.
“There it is!” he said triumphantly while holding up a long, thin, green plastic tube.
The relief I felt was almost immediate and so I quashed the desire to physically hurt him.  We had a discussion about what I could do (anything – he said) and how I should drink copious amounts of water.  “You’ll need to come back in two weeks for some extensive testing so we can try to nail down what kind of stones you’re forming and why.  Don’t change your diet until we do,” he said.
I left the hospital and headed for the park.  I asked myself that age-old question ‘what would Lance do?’ and decided he’d work out.  I arrived and changed into my workout clothes and began the Survival Workout with 95 push-ups.  The rest of the workout went smoothly, though I didn’t do too much lower body work.  I managed 17 sets and felt great the whole time.  I’m guessing I won’t be missing that stent for even a moment.
Survival Workout: 60 minutes. 
Training Heart Rate: 100-150 bpm.
Calories Burned: 600.

Exploring nature with a puppy...

Wednesday, August 6, 2014
I called the doctor’s office to confirm my appointment and determine whether I’d need a driver.
“They’ll be doing the procedure to remove the stent with a local, so you should be okay to drive yourself,” the woman answering the phone informed me.
I’m not exactly sure how this whole removal thing works, but I’m pretty sure they’ll be going through the opening in my body that leads to the uterus tract…and that spells ‘unpleasant’.  I’m basing this on the fact that I could find no entry or exit wounds to the original surgery that installed the stent, something that was done while I was knocked out with some wonderful drug.  They did install a catheter at that time and since I’m going to be awake for the removal, I can make sure they won’t be doing THAT again.  What a baby I am.
I met Savannah and the puppies in the park for a short hike.  I’d decided against a Survival Workout because of how uncomfortable I’d been all day.  With less than 24 hours to getting rid of the stent and hopefully the pain, I figured it could wait one more day.  I am wondering whether I’ll feel like doing anything tomorrow night though.
Anyway, we walked a mile or so.  I took us on a trail Savannah had never seen since she likes variety and was up front with the Dakota and Copper when a flash of sunlight bouncing off an animal’s fur caught my eye.  I stopped, stared into the underbrush from which it had come and finally detected the movement that had created it.
“Dakota, Copper – come on back here!” I said as I turned and began retracing my steps towards Savannah.
Dakota obeyed instantly and began following me.  Copper, that curious little puppy, headed in the direction of the movement before deciding she too should do what I’d said and began following Dakota.
“What’s up?” Savannah asked as I approached.
“Skunk.  Surprised to see it in daylight and I’m pretty sure Copper shouldn’t be saying ‘hello’,” I said.
We continued along a different trail with Copper lagging slightly, as puppies will do with their stubby, little legs and limited endurance.  I turned to find her carrying something, thinking it was a stick.  It wasn’t.  She proudly trotted my way with a dead robin carcass in her mouth.
“Um…nice find Copper, but I think we should throw that away,” I said when she dropped it for me.  She was learning quickly why Dakota and I liked the woods so much. 

I was happy the walk was a short one.  Once back in the car, the pressure on my bladder diminished.  I drove home, made some dinner and spent another evening sitting, trying to find a comfortable position.  My last night of whining, I hope.

Pain is getting worse...

Tuesday, August 5, 2014
My urine had been getting darker throughout the day despite my drinking copious amounts of water.  If I wasn’t scheduled to have the stent removed on Thursday, I’d have likely called the urologist and asked some questions.  I couldn’t walk at all without discomfort in the urinary tract either, which made hiking in the park with the puppies unattractive.  I did have some grass to cut though, and it wasn’t getting any shorter.
I managed the hand mower quite well, but was anxious about the riding mower.  When I’d used it to cut Joan’s yard a week ago, I’d felt each bump in the yard in my bladder…and not in a good way.  For some reason, it did not bother me and I merrily rode for an hour getting my work done.

I drove to BJ’s to do the grocery shopping and that lifting and walking was uncomfortable so by the time I returned home for the evening, I was ready for a small dinner and couch time.  I passed more blood in my urine than I had since the second day after the operation and the pain was pretty intense.  After sitting for ten minutes, the pain subsided and for the rest of the evening, I was reasonably comfortable.

Better or worse? Hard to say...

Monday, August 4, 2014
I spent the day at the Y making constant trips to the bathroom.  The pain upon going seemed to be getting worse, though I had thought I was better when I’d gotten up that morning and had no pain for my first trip.  Walking around seemed to aggravate it.
I texted Savannah at the end of the day and encouraged her to meet me at the park with the dogs for a short hike.  My plan was to arrive there first and do the Survival Workout – as much as I could, at least.
I started well, managing 90 push-ups and having no trouble with my pull-ups and abdominal exercises.  I headed down the trail doing all the normal sets in my routine, including karaoke up the steep hill leading out of the horse trailer parking lot.  I’d reached Clear Creek and was about two-thirds through the workout when Savannah called to say she was on the way with the puppies.  I returned to the car to find them already playing in the field.  Copper was very interested in following Dakota wherever she went and doing whatever she did.  Still all good.  In fact, we tried to get her to mimic Dakota at road crossings when Dakota would obediently come to my side and not cross until I gave her the ‘all clear’.  Copper was clueless about why, but she did it none the less.
We walked a mile to the creek and allowed them time to play in the water before making the return hike.  I’d only managed 13 sets of my workout, but with the extra hiking, felt pretty good about the day.  I’m planning a trip to the Adirondacks before starting the new position, but have reservations about what I’ll be able to do.  With the stent coming out on Thursday, maybe the bladder urgency and uncomfortable feelings will dissipate.  If they don’t, it’s unlikely that I’d try to climb a peak, but wouldn’t mind a short hike to Round Pond and some time alone to camp, write, read, take short hikes, and think.  The serenity is complete there and with the wedding coming and starting a new job, it may be my last chance for this year.
Survival Workout: 60 minutes. 
Training Heart Rate: 100-150 bpm.

Calories Burned: 600.

Introducing Copper to North Chagrin Reservation...

Sunday, August 3, 2014

I’d had a miserable night with my bladder.  Up every hour or so and feeling pain each time I had to go was getting very old.  I headed to church, but couldn’t sit through the service without making a trip to the bathroom.  I returned home and laid down; the only thing that seemed to relieve the constant urge.  Copper needed constant attention and Savannah had been called into work.  I decided it was time to introduce her to the North Chagrin Reservation.
I put her in the back seat of the Toyota and Dakota assumed her normal perch in the front passenger seat.  Copper was having none of it and tried to climb into the front with Dakota, which surprisingly, she tolerated.  Finally, she ended up in my lap, which I allowed. 
We parked close to Clear Creek as I wanted to keep the walk to something a seven-week old puppy could handle.  I’d done the same with Dakota as a puppy, introducing her to the trails early and often with the hope that she’d love it as much as I.  It had worked with her, so why not Copper?  She followed directly on my heels, though managed to run ahead in an effort to follow Dakota.  She was clearly taking Q’s from Dakota, which is exactly what I wanted since she was so well trained and never strayed too far from me.  Copper struggled but climbed over logs that crossed the path, but when we reached the creek, I thought the water was running a little too high to let her try and cross.  She, on the other hand, was completely unintimidated and plunged forward.

After tumbling twice from the river bank the three feet to the water below, she became slightly more cautious, but remained unafraid.  She seemed to enjoy the water and the park, though was beginning to drag on the return trip to the car and completely collapsed once inside.  I hadn’t gotten much of a hike, but had begun the important process of indoctrinating the newest family member to the beauty of the park and being outside. 

Copper...

Saturday, August 2, 2014

Jason had gone out of town and I’d committed to taking care of his two dogs and Theresa’s cat during their absence.  I arrived early enough to let them out, feed them, give them a little time to exercise and still get to Mimi’s by 8:30 a.m.
I arrived at Mimi’s to find that she had garage cleaning in mind.  This is one of my favorite activities at my own house and it proved almost equally as rewarding at hers.  I love getting rid of junk that never gets used and only serves to clutter.  I also like tackling insurmountable obstacles, like the spider webs and bug poop throughout her garage, and being able to stand back when all is done to admire an amazing difference, which after three hours is just what we did.
I was feeling a constant nagging discomfort in my bladder throughout the morning, which seemed to be getting worse with each passing day.  It was far from the pain that had put me in the hospital and hardly worth mentioning, but things weren’t right down there and I knew it.  I decided to cut my normal Saturday workload short and headed for home.
Copper, Savannah’s new puppy and named for her favorite stuffed animal which was supposed to resemble Copper from the Disney movie 'Fox and the Hound', was in puppy form and in need of constant attention.  She’d slept some of the previous evening, but her whimpering had kept Savannah, me, Dakota, and Jack from getting much sleep.  Dakota was chasing the tennis ball as I walked into the back yard with Copper trying to keep pace for about ten steps.
“I’m trying to wear her out so maybe she’ll sleep tonight,” Savannah said.
“Good luck with that.  I think we’ll be spending a few more sleepless nights before she completely settles in,” I said.

She would just have to let her whimper one night and not respond to it.  Puppies, like children, learn quickly what gets results and if it was whimpering incessantly, then she’d whimper.  I returned to Jason’s place to care for his animals and spent several hours there keeping them company before returning home to relieve Savannah so she could go for a run and get a shower.  Copper was actually doing quite well and would walk all around the neighborhood with Dakota and me without straying.  In fact, she would walk almost directly underfoot in an effort not to get left behind.  Dakota was a well-trained canine and it was our hope she would share all those wonderful characteristics with this new puppy.

Back to the boat...

Friday, August 1, 2014

Nathan had been working solo on the boat since he’d returned from his last stint.  I felt guilty about this, but there had been little I could do about it.  I had told him that I’d try to do some work on Friday though, and so he picked me up early and we headed for the Marina.
It was all about sanding the hull.  Dirty, time-consuming, tedious labor, but it simply had to be done if we were to put a fresh coat of paint on the hull and put it in the water before the end of the boating season. 
I grabbed my orbital, hand sander and went to work smoothing areas where Nathan had applied resin to fill holes and to smooth other areas where paint had chipped from the hull.  We stayed at if for about four hours and reached a point where, with the exception of spots he’d needed to reapply resin, we were ready to paint.  My back and arms were sore and I’d been going to the bathroom every 45 minutes, but I felt good about finally making another contribution to the boat restoration.  Though we had much to do above, Nathan was quite confident we could put it in the water at this point and it would float.  I’d decided that even if he was right, I’d watch that experiment from the shore.

The countdown to the arrival of Savannah’s puppy had been going on for over six weeks.  A friend from the Columbus area had posted puppy pictures when they’d discovered the dog they’d adopted from the Humane Society was ‘with puppies’.  The owner was driving the puppies to their new homes and would be arriving in Highland Heights with Savannah’s around 9 p.m.  She arrived on time and the family, including Dakota, began the adjustment.  I love puppies and have raised several in my years and was looking forward to helping Savannah with her first.  Dakota, on the other hand, was less than thrilled.

Nearly normal workout...

Thursday, July 31, 2014
I decided to stop pampering myself and give a full Survival Workout a shot.  My last effort had been cut short when anything I did with core muscles caused pain in the abdomen.  I had a feeling it would go better though, but only a few good crunches would tell the tale.
I managed 80 push-ups to start the workout, which was encouraging and when I dropped to the ground to do my first core set and passed ten reps, I knew it would be alright.  I stopped at fifty and moved to my pull-ups, which also went pain-free.
Though I skipped some lower body jumps, the workout went extremely well.  I was even able to climb the swing set, which uses plenty of core strength, without pain.  In all, I managed 19 sets and felt rather good about myself.  That’s not to say I didn’t have some pain in the abdomen and a need to pee three times during the workout, but so what?  It was a very good recovery day.
Survival Workout: 60 minutes. 
Training Heart Rate: 100-150 bpm.

Calories Burned: 600.

Still having unpleasant feelings...

Wednesday, July 30, 2014
I went to Joan’s place to cut her grass.  I’d missed last week while suffering through my kidney stone fiasco and I needed to get back on track with my side jobs.
Pushing the hand mower was not a problem, but when I climbed on the tractor for the bulk of the cutting, I felt each bump and jolt in my abdomen and urinary tract.  It was quite unpleasant, but I knew I needed to get through it…and I did.

I returned home and spent most of the remainder of the evening on the sofa.  It seems to be my only comfortable position, but I’m sick of it.  The stent is due to come out in a week and maybe then I’ll feel normal again.  

A real training ride...

Tuesday, July 29, 2014
I was determined to do something that resembled the kinds of workouts I’d been doing a summer ago when preparing for Tour Ohio.  In my current state, that meant riding.  I got home, changed and was on the bike by 6 p.m. thinking I could handle something I the two-hour neighborhood, but without a lot of climbing.  Which around here is almost impossible.
I pedaled through the park and down into Waite Hill.  I’d selected a course that, if I was in shape, would have taken a little over 90 minutes.  I wasn’t pushing hard, though I was breathing like I was.  I climbed from the Chagrin River up to Chapin Forest on Hobart Road, slowly but steadily over a 25-minute period.  The good news was that I’d return the way I’d come in half the time.
I reached the park and my turn around feeling pretty good and began the rapid descent back to the river.  I still had one more climb back out of the valley and took it slowly, but with seven miles left to home, was feeling pretty good.
The ride too about 20 minutes longer than usual, but I was encouraged about the way I was feeling.  Two rides in four days and maybe I could get myself in decent shape for some fall climbing in the Adirondacks, if just for a weekend.  The problem would be time; I wasn’t sure when Jason and I would get another rehab job, but once we did there would be little time for anything else.
Bike duration: One hour and 50 minutes.
Training Heart Rate: 120 bpm.

Calories Burned: 1540.

Abbreviated Survival Workout...

Monday, July 28, 2014
It was a tough day.  I had to let the Board president know that I’d accepted a position with Fieldstone Farm and would be leaving the Y.  There was so much still left to do there and he would be left spearheading the things I had put in motion.  For reasons I will not put in this blog, I really needed to move on.  He and other members of the Y had been wonderful to work with and I would miss them terribly.  The Y had an important mission it continues to serve in the Warren community and their leadership with further that cause.
I drove to the North Chagrin Reservation to meet Savannah and attempt the Survival Workout.  I started with push-ups, managing 75, with no apparent issue.  Then I tried my core workout.
“Oww…that hurts,” I said after three reps.
“Well then don’t do them,” Savannah suggested.
Thanks for that.
I tried some pull-ups, which involves the core as well and again, felt a pain across my abdomen.  I learned quickly that the stent and the recovery process did not allow for core work.  I went through the rest of the workout doing upper body lifts without pain, but avoided core and lower body.  We hiked up our karaoke hill and although I was breathing hard, it was a far cry from the exhausted effort I’d made hiking on level trails a few days earlier.  By the time we returned to the car, I’d managed ten different sets, broken a decent sweat, and discovered my limitations – for the time being.
Survival Workout: 30 minutes. 
Training Heart Rate: 100-150 bpm.

Calories Burned: 300.

Feeling better...

Sunday, July 27, 2014
I texted Jason early and asked when he’d like me to come by to help with the garage.  In the meantime, I’d decided my own needed some serious attention.
Since I’d begun J & J Home Maintenance with Jason and spent so much time painting and remodeling our first home, I’d been piling supplies and materials in the garage.  Add to that Savannah’s accumulation of stuff from her Columbus apartment and my complete lack of time or caring about the ensuing mess and I found my garage was suffering from the perfect storm. 
I spent the next two hours cleaning, hauling stuff to the curb, stacking and restacking and organizing until I reached the point where I could again easily park two vehicles inside without bumping doors into stored junk.  It was very humid and I was sweating profusely.  Knowing that I’d been in the hospital largely as a result of dehydration, I filled and refilled my water cup and drank.
I went to Jason’s for several hours to install a stud wall before returning home to make the family dinner, which was chicken fettuccini.  Heavy, but delicious.  My father-in-law and I watched Clint Eastwood starring in ‘The Eiger Sanction’.  Clint seemed to be in great shape for this movie, based on killing and mountain climbing, and watching some of the footage of climbers left me wondering again how anyone could want to hang on the side of a mountain with a little piece of metal pounded into a rock the difference between life and death.  Clint did not successfully reach the top, but he did get credit for killing half a dozen people.

Though not a day with formal exercise, I burned a lot of calories, dropped quarts of sweat and felt more like myself than I had in over a week.  Recovery was slow, but it was happening.

A bike ride...

Saturday, July 26, 2014
I started the morning sharing a cup of coffee with Mimi and discussing kidney stones and the work I needed to do to get caught up at her place.  None of it was going to happen that morning, though I did manage to download a bunch of pictures from her camera to her computer for her, a task I feel she will never master – but I enjoy doing. 
I’d passed a number of garage sale signs on Friday and knowing Jason was always looking for deals on tools, called him and suggested we hit a few.  He stopped by to pick me up and over the next several hours, I climbed in and out of his truck looking over other people’s junk.  I needed to go to the bathroom every hour and finally asked him to drop me back home.
I laid on the couch and continued to nurse my sore back, but by six, I’d had enough of coddling myself and slipped into my biking gear.  My plan, possibly a little weak, was to ride about an hour in a loop that would take me no more than 30 minutes from the house at any given point.  I had my cell phone for emergencies, so what was the worst that could happen?
The skies were overcast and it had been drizzling earlier.  I wasn’t going to let this stop me, though.  I headed towards the park and on to Waite Hill, descending the precipitous Eagle Road at high speeds and heavy rain.  I reached the halfway point in a pounding downpour and soaked to the bone.  And feeling marvelous.  What would Lance have done?  He’d be riding, of course.
I got back home thinking that although it may not have been my best decision, that it had worked out okay.  I’ll do dumber things in the future, of that I’m sure.  For now, I can say I’m riding again.
Bike duration: 75 minutes.
Training Heart Rate: 120 bpm.
Calories Burned: 1050.

Finally...some activity.

Friday, July 25, 2014
My back pain continued throughout the day and made everything difficult to do.  Still, I knew I needed to get moving if I was to accelerate the healing process.  I went out and trimmed the grass before hopping on the riding mower to do the cutting.  It was something, at least.  When Savannah came home, I asked her to take me to the park and walk me like the dog.
“I need to move some, but I don’t want to get halfway and find out I’m unable to continue,” I said.
We went on a 1.7 mile trail and I walked at about 50% of my normal walking pace.  My back was sore, but loosened up as we walked and by the time we reached the car, I was feeling looser but exhausted.
I picked up some groceries and decided to make an Amish casserole for dinner.  I called Jason and invited him over.  Being up and moving was definitely helping.  I’d gone out to do something in the yard and when I returned, found Jack making a mountain of chicken and rice.  I told him about my dinner plan.
“I’m going out on a date, dad, so I don’t think I’ll be here for dinner,” he said.
“Hey…that’s great.  What are you guys going to do,” I asked, watching the food mounded on his plate spilling to the table when he stuck his fork in for a bite.
“We’re going out to get something to eat,” he said as he chewed and swallowed.
I scratched my head, looked at my watch – it was 6 p.m. – and then at his plate again and pointed at it with a questioning expression.
“We’re not going until 8,” he said and continued to chew.
I ate the dinner with gusto – the first meal I’d truly enjoyed in close to a week.  Jason and I discussed the work we would be doing on his garage the next day; we would be putting up walls to create a workshop.  He left and I plugged in a movie and just tried to rest my back and continue the healing.
Hike duration: 45 minutes.
Training Heart Rate: 90 bpm.

Calories Burned: 175.

No luck working...

Thursday, July 24, 2014
I drove to work thinking about all I had to do to prepare for the evening’s Board meeting.  I knew I’d have a hundred messages in the ‘in box’ as well as mail to sort through and documents to create.  And I was feeling lousy.
I spent the first hour blasting through as much as I could with the realization I wasn’t going to make it too much longer.  I notified the Board president that he’d be running the meeting, created an agenda, copied financials and minutes, and after two hours, headed for home.

I spent the remainder of the day laying on the sofa and trying to manage the pain with the help of Percocet.  It took the edge off, but my back was so stiff and painful – I guessed from being flat on it since Sunday night – that again, I couldn’t find a comfortable position.  I tried eating a little something, but still had no appetite.  I knew I’d be doing more of the same tomorrow – work would be out of the question.

Out of the hospital...

Wednesday, July 23, 2014
It was check-out day, which was good.  I had rescheduled the interview for 5:15 p.m. and was anxious to get home and begin mending.  The Urologist had visited before 7 to explain the operation.
“You’ve got a sent in the urinary tract which is expanding it to allow the fluids to get past the stone, which is still there.  I think it will be powderized by the work I did, but it was so inflamed in that area that I couldn’t reach it with my tool to remove it.  We may get it when we go back up there in 2-3 weeks to remove the stent,” he explained.
He said my urine, collecting in a bag on the side of my bed and being fed by the catheter coming from where they come from, was looking good and that I should be going home today.
I reported this information to the nurse when she returned to my room.  Just when I thought I’d known pain, she removed the catheter and alerted me I wouldn’t be going anywhere until I peed on my own.  I grabbed my bottle when she left and made an effort and then discovered there was even greater pain than kidney stones and catheter removals.  I was loving life in the hospital.
I made it to the interview on time and when I described what I’d been doing over the past few days, they were incredulous that I’d appeared at all.  I was meeting with the staff of Fieldstone Farm and they knew me well.  “This could have waited, John,” the CEO told me.
“It was very important to me and I’d already cancelled Monday’s appointment.  I didn’t want you guys thinking I as some kind of wimp,” I said and we took it from there.

I continued to dread peeing throughout the evening and was too nauseous to eat.  I’d had very little since Sunday evening, but was without an appetite.  Since I wasn’t doing anything except laying around, I suppose that was a good thing.  I did vow to drink more and was following through on that.  I finally headed off to bed hoping tomorrow would bring a lessening of the pain.

Are you allergic to any medications?

Tuesday, July 21, 2014

I called work early and told them what was happening.  I remained in a dilaudid haze throughout the day since my injections were all that kept me from killing myself.  I still had hopes for passing the stone before surgery, which was scheduled for early afternoon, and kept drinking and peeing constantly.  When the transport person came force me into hospital garb (I was wearing my t-shirt and shorts under the gown they’d given me in the emergency room) and wheel me to the operating room, I tried peeing one more time to pass the stone – without success.  Damn.
Once in the operating waiting room, I was asked for the seventh time (I was literally keeping a count) whether I was allergic to any medication, and many other questions including if I had metal in my legs or not.  The nurse that was asking these questions was on the  left side of my bed.  The anesthesiologist on the right side was waiting for her to finish so she could speak.
“Are you allergic to any medications?” she began.
I was in pain because the dilaudid had long since worn off.  I was irritated and it showed.  I looked at her and then back to the one who had just asked the same question.
“Are you serious?”
She was, she said and so I told her I wasn’t.  The first nurse walked away, but when she returned, she began to question me again.
“Do you have any metal in your legs?”
“Look – I’m really in a lot of pain.  You need to write my answers down somewhere so you don’t forget.  You asked me five minutes ago if I had metal in my legs.  Don’t you think you’d have seen me slip out of here to insert a rod of some kind into my leg in that time?  No.  I DON’T HAVE ANY METAL IN MY LEGS!”
She wasn’t too happy with me and she probably controlled my pain medication.  It was a bad move, but I wasn’t thinking clearly.  At some point, the anesthesiologist slipped me a mickey and the next thing I remember was being in the recovery room with a new nurse.

“So…are you allergic to any medications?” 

Return of the kidney stone attack...

Sunday-Monday, July 20-21, 2014
The drive home was uneventful.  I took a Percocet in the morning; the warning on the bottle said to ‘be careful’ when driving, so I figured it wasn’t going to knock me out.  It didn’t.
We were celebrating Jack’s birthday for dinner, but after eating a little, I found the pain was beginning to escalate, so I took another Percocet and went to lay down.  By 9 p.m., I was again in full blown kidney stone attack and the Percocet had all the effect of a jelly bean.  The real hurt was on the way.
I couldn’t sleep or find any comfort through the night and began throwing up around 3 a.m.  By 7 a.m., I knew I would be returning to the emergency room and found myself there by 8:30 a.m.  I took my paperwork from the hospital in Potsdam as I thought the blood work could prove important and it did.  It took two hours of intense pain for them to finally give me some dilaudid, a powerful opiate that brought instant relief.  When I could once again speak without clenching my teeth, I questioned what was happening.
“That shit was really good.  Why in the f&*k did you wait so long to give it to me?
They had some bullshit reasoning and it was some time before the Urologist finally joined me to give me some understanding of what was happening.
“Your left kidney is functioning quite poorly.  We have the results from Saturday and in two days, it’s declined by half.  We need to move that stone by pumping you full of fluids, or we’re going to have to put a stent in there to get around it,” he said.
I had a job interview scheduled for 4 p.m., or in about four hours and told him so.  He wasn’t too interested.
“We need to admit you.  You’re very sick and we have to continue to pump in the fluids and see if the stone passes.”
“I can go to the interview and come right back here for the night.  This is important and could affect the rest of my life,” I said.
“Your kidney will definitely affect the rest of your life,” he said, but was weakening and finally agreed.
I was administered some more dilaudid; the pain had me writhing again.  It had been less than two hours since my last shot and I started thinking this dose would wear out just about the point that the interview was scheduled to begin.  Falling to the floor and yelling ‘somebody shoot me’ would probably do little to impress the interviewers.  I decided to cancel and stay in the hospital.
They moved me to a room and on the ride in my bed to this new location, the dilaudid wore off and I had the worst attack to date.  I had to get out of the bed and was rolling around on the floor of the room trying to find a comfortable position knowing no such thing existed.  The nurse did not have my records yet (not sure why the computer from the emergency room didn’t have instant access by the nurse on the fourth floor), so I was forced to go through twenty minutes of hell waiting for my next injection.  Clearly, this stone was stressing the hell out of my kidney and the hospital was the place for me.

I spent the evening in a dilaudid haze, getting up to pee into my bottle every hour.  No stone passed and as morning approached, I knew surgery was on the way.