So there we have it. I have money, and now am technically independently wealthy. I still reel over this. Several times I've demanded to know from Josh just how this indebts me to him, but he finally drummed it into my stubborn head that I owe him nothing, that he did what he felt was the right thing. The past few months living with Jamie and Rob were great, but I decided to strike out on my own and start living a fully independent life.
I bought a house just on the outskirts of town in an area known as Valley Park, just west of I-270 and I-44. This area is prone to flooding, but it's rare, and my house sits up on a bluff. Of course, it took me a three months to be able to pay most of it off right away, and financed about 1/3 of it, just so as to not spend all of my money. I am, after all, only living off of the interest after investing all of what I was given, minus Uncle Sam's share, of course.
I agreed to let Josh handle my accounts, though, because he has the head for business. I'm the dreamer in the family. Jamie and Rob were gracious and helped me move in and gave great ideas on how to furnish the place. I'm still working on that department.
The house sits on a bluff, as I mentioned, but has a nice sized back yard with a private swimming pool. It's fall, so of course it's covered over for the winter, but I had to peek at it, so Dad and I removed the cover. It's a beautiful in-ground pool, with a "disappearing" edge on the far side. I could envision evenings sitting in this thing, watching the sun set over the horizon. The house is a two-story, but not immense, by any means. It has 4 bedrooms upstairs, a nice family room which looks out onto the patio and pool, a formal living room in front, with a dining room next to it. These two rooms are still empty though, as are three of the four bedrooms. Dad asked me what I needed with four bedrooms, but I just shrugged and said I'd figure something out. One thing for sure is that I'd have at least one guestroom and one of them would become my study...for whatever I decided to do with my life. The garage is an over-sized two car garage, which enters into the kitchen, just off the family room. A breakfast nook is just off the kitchen as well, and also looks over the patio. I have neighbors on each side of me, but their houses are angled away from mine so that if we were sitting on our front porches, we could talk (loudly) to each other, but we can't see into each other's back yards without coming over to the privacy fences and climbing up to look over. The previous owners did a great job of landscaping the back, which has no fence along the bluff. And so, I moved in right away, and knew Mom would want to help with furnishing the place.
Chris and I dated off and on, but as I mentioned before, we're more friends now. It never seemed to be enough to become a sexual relationship, although I think we both checked each other out on occasion. I'd made a few friends through Rob and Jamie, but never got over feeling they were just being nice because I lived there. We'll see who keeps in touch now that I'm no longer living there.
Oh yeah, and I quit the job. There is a big merger taking place, and I figured they had enough ammo to make an excuse to lay me off, so I took the initative. It was QUITE a fun day:
I walked into Daniel's office. "Dan, we gotta talk." I said, not without cheer in my voice.
"Sure, Jesse, what's up?"
"Well, I'm not going to pussyfoot around. I'm leaving the company." I said, full of enthusiasm and happiness.
Daniel threw his pencil onto the desk in exasperation. "What the HELL are you trying to do to me? Drive ME nuts?" he said.
"Hey, come on. I've done good work lately, and ..."
"Yeah, Jesse, and I went to bat for you several times, and now you pull this shit on me? What gives with you, man?"
My German temper flared up. "Hey! For YOUR information, I just received an inheritance, and I now am independently wealthy, at least enough to live on my own sans career! And for YOUR information, YOU kept bringing ME back here!"
Daniel sighed, and thought for a second. "Yeah, well...I guess I made that mistake on my own, and I'm not going to repeat it." He blinks. "Did you say you are wealthy now? What happened?"
"My S.O.B. grandfather died and left a huge sum of money to my brother, who was nice enough to give some to my parents and to me. I've had him invest it, and I'm living off a part of the interest, and it's like 12 times more than I make a year in this hell hole." I replied, not without malice.
Daniel sort of centered himself at his desk, and sat up straighter. He studied the pencil on the desk for a moment. Then he spoke again. "OK, Jesse, I'll accept your resignation. BUT. I'm telling you this right now: Do NOT come back to me asking for work again. I will not hire you back on."
Then I did something that shocks me even when I think about it now. I reached over the desk, gently squeezed his cheeks, and said "Daniel, my dear man, I wouldn't come back to this joint even if you promised to fuck me up the ass every day until doomsday. I'm done with you, this company, and this piss-poor excuse of a job. Now if you'll pardon me, I'll be packing up my things and doing with my life what I've wanted to do."
I got up and walked out. Daniel hurriedly got out of his chair and followed me to my desk, and stood there watching as I packed up. I showed him every paper I was taking, mostly personal stuff, like HR forms and such. I handed him my company badge, my SECURID (for logging into the system), wrote down every password I had on the system, and turned in my desk keys. When he was satisfied that I had fulfilled company policy on returning stuff, I started to walk out, but he put a hand on my chest. Then he reached out his right hand. I took it, cautiously, and shook it.
"Jesse, best of luck. I sincerely mean that." he said with a smile.
Putting a little more force into my handshake, I smiled back. "You too. Thanks for everything. Sincerely. Now, I guess you'll need to escort me out?"
He nodded, and we walked to the elevator, down to the lobby, and past the guard's desk.
"So, what are you going to do with your life, Jess?"
"I don't know." I said. I looked around the lobby, knowing I wasn't going to miss this place. "There are some different things I've thought about, but I guess I'll know when the Spirit moves me."
We said our goodbyes, and I was blissfully unemployed. I stood on the front steps of the building and looked around. I felt as if the whole world was at my feet, and I had choices....any choices I wanted to make.
I drove home, with the question "what are you going to do with your life" ringing in my head over and over. I realized I didn't have to answer that right away, but it was going to nag at me. Sure, I could sit by the pool and sip margaritas all day, but I knew, from experience, that sitting on my ass every day was going to get old fast. I'm the type of guy who needs something in his life to make him feel fulfilled.
So now I sit around the Thanksgiving table, listening to Dad and Mom talk about their trip to the Bahamas. Dad decided to retire and turn the firm over to Josh. Josh is like me. He needs to have something to do in life, so he took over the law firm, but more as a CEO than a lawyer. I am getting mildly irritated since I still haven't figured out what to do. I keep telling myself I have plenty of time, but things like that nag at me. I guess I'm a bit obsessive-compulsive.
After dinner, we walk into the family room and the men do the traditional unbuttoning of the pants to make room for bloated bellies. Josh's kids are upstairs playing Game Cube while we pop in a movie. As I sit and watch, a strange sort of cramping feeling comes into my left side. I don't give it much thought since I just ate so much. About half way into the movie, I excuse myself and go to the bathroom, trying to go so as to make room. But I don't have to go, and the pain is gradually intensifying. My first thought is appendicitis, but I don't feel sick otherwise, and it's on my left side. Not unheard of, but rarely is the appendix over there. I give up trying to go, and head back to the easy chair I was in before. Marianne is in the chair next to me.
"Jess, are you ok, honey?" she asks, with concern.
"Yeah, why do you ask?" I say, smiling, just a hint of strain in my voice. Mom's eyes immediately are boring in on me.
"Well, you're breathing kind of funny." Marianne observes.
"What is it, honey?" Mom asks.
"Nothing. I just have a little cramping in my left side. I'm sure it's from eating too much."
"Are you sure? Do you want something for it?" Mom asks.
"No...I'll be fine. Just need to let things digest." I assure her.
As if on a dimmer switch, the pain slowly continues to intensify. Five minutes later, Mom's radar picks up my breathing again.
"Jesse! You're on the verge of hyperventilating! What is wrong, baby?"
Dad wakes up from his napping. "JD? What's wrong son?"
"Would you people get off my back?" I say gently. "I'm sure this is just...oh god!!" I double over in my chair as the pain spikes. It feels as if someone is squeezing my insides together on my left side, and the pain radiates around to my back and into my groin as well.
"That's it!" Dad says. "Let's get you to the ER."
"No, Dad! I don't want to...oh my god." I protest. I get up and start pacing the room, trying to find a comfortable position to relieve the pain.
"John, I don't care what he says. Get the coats. We're going!" Mom says, refusing to hear anymore arguments about it. I give in, nodding.
They help me into my coat and they support me out to the car.
"Marianne, you all go ahead and stay here if you want. We'll call if this is anything serious." Mom offers. Marianne nods, and goes up to tell Josh what's happening.
In the car, in the front passenger seat, I'm writhing with pain as Dad does his best to navigate through traffic.
"Amazing how many people are out here right now." he muses. I couldn't give a shit, I'm thinking. Just get me to the fucking hospital.
With each wave of pain, I let out a cry. Mom's trying to comfort me from the back seat, but in this much pain, I'd rather not be touched. Finally, after an eternity, we pull up to St. Anthony's emergency doors. Mom hops out, and runs in to get a wheel chair. I get out of the car and start to walk on my own, desperate to get help, not caring that it hurts to walk.
"Jesse! What are you doing?!" Mom bursts out.
The triage nurse walks over. "Oh dear, looks like a kidney stone." She rushes back to her podium and announces "Male Patient, Room 2403." She rushes back over. I manage to get my coat off and hand it to Mom, who takes it. "Ma'am, please wait here." she tells Mom, then she takes my arm and escorts me back to the room. In my state of pain, I still marvel that I don't have to wait.
In the room, she instructs me to remove all clothing except underwear and socks, gives me a gown, then whisks out the door, closing it behind her. By now, the pain is intense and I'm shaking as I peel off my clothes and put the gown on. I give up trying to tie the strings, so I get up on the gourney and pull the blanket over me. I flop this way and that way, trying to get into a position that relieves the pain, but nothing helps. I move my left leg back and forth, as if trying to focus my mind on something else.
A young man walks in carrying a laptop. "Hi, I'm Stephen. I need to get your information." He asks me the questions he needs for registering me, and at that moment, I realize I'm unemployed so I tell him I'll be paying cash. Then he walks out. If I was feeling better, I'd have lusted after that boy.
A nurse walks in and starts taking vitals. "Hi, I'm Karen, and I'll be your nurse. Looks like you're in a little pain, huh?"
I glare at her, wanting to slap her hard. "Yeah" I gasp out. "Please, help me."
"I know. The doctor will be in momentarily."
"Momentarily?" I cry out. "I'm hurting like hell here."
"I know, sweetie, but we can't give you anything until we know exactly what this is. Do you think you can give a urine sample?"
She's gotta be kidding. "I don't know...maybe." I gasp.
She gently squeezes my arm. "I know, sweetie, I know. Here is a urinal. Try to give something if you can. The sooner you do, the sooner we can get pain meds started, ok? I'll be right back. Here's your call button if you need me." And she's out the door.
I pull up the covers and stick my dick into the plastic bottle. I bear down, despite the pain, and sure enough, a short stream starts, giving about 2 ounces. I figure that's good enough, so I close the lid and cover up. I pull my knees up, which seems to help a little, then push the Call button.
Karen whisks back into the room (where do they get the energy?). "Oh good job. OK, let me run a quick test." She sticks a small strip of paper into the urine. "Yep, there's blood in there. I'd say kidney stone. Let's get the doctor in here." She steps back into the staff area, then comes back in. "I need to start an IV. Which arm is better?"
I gasp out that my left is better. She comes around and expertly gets one started with little effort. You gotta love nurses that are good at that. Then, in walks the doctor, and my heart almost stops.
"Jesse!" Scott says. "What on earth?"
"Scott? What are YOU doing here?" I manage, sudden emotion superceding my pain...but only temporarily.
"I've been here for a month or so now. Better hours, better pay. But, right now that's not important. Let's get you taken care of."
Karen walks out of the room.
"Jesse, if you want a different doctor, I'll understand."
I grab his sleeve. "JUST MAKE THIS STOP." I say, biting off each word.
"Right. OK. The nurse said there's blood in your urine, which usually means a kidney stone. I'll need to examine you." He said that last statement almost apologetically.
"DO IT!!!" I cry out.
He checks my abs, asking me if this hurts, or that hurts. I say no, pressure doesn't seem to affect it.
"OK, Jesse, everything points to a stone. I'm going to order you some pain meds now." He sticks his head out and calls to Karen. She comes in with a syringe. "I'll be right back." Scott says.
"OK, sweetie, let's start with some Demerol and this should help you." Karen says. She injects the needle into my hip. "OK, let's give that a few minutes to start working. I'll be back in a few minutes."
Alone again, I let out a few cries of pain, rocking in my gourney, trying to tolerate the pain. I've never felt anything this bad, not even during my recovery from the accident.
Now the waiting starts. What DO they do while we're in these beds waiting for relief? After what seems like an eternity, Karen walks in again. "OK, sweetie, how are we doing? Is that helping?"
"Well," I sigh, "it took the edge off, but only for a few minutes. Now it's back again."
"OK, let me talk to Dr. Landry." and out she goes again.
A soft knock at the door, and my parents walk in.
"Hi, honey, how are you doing?" Mom asks.
I just glare at them.
"That good, huh?" she says, trying to diffuse my pain with humor. It just makes me feel worse. She means well.
"They say it's a kidney stone. Mom. You'll never guess who (gasp) my doctor is. Scott."
"THE Scott?" Dad asks. "Do you want a different doctor?"
"No. Right now I just want to be out of pain." I let out a cry.
Scott walks in, and almost double-takes over himself. "Hello Mr. and Mrs. Corey. I didn't know you were here."
"I'll just bet you didn't!" Mom says.
"Hon!" Dad warns. "Not now."
Scott collects himself with a sigh. "Jesse, Karen said that the Demerol didn't help. I'm going to give you a dose of Morphine. That should take the pain away."
"So, Doctor," Dad says, "you think this is a kidney stone?"
"Well, all of the symptoms fit. We're going to do a CAT scan to be sure. First priority is to get him comfortable. Then we'll be able to do tests." Scott replies. I still am amazed at his professionalism. I know this is uncomfortable for him, but for myself, I don't care.
Karen rushes in with another syringe and injects it into the valve on the IV tubing. "There you go, Sweetie. This should help."
A few minutes later, sure enough, the pain subsides to a very tolerable level. I sigh with relief. My body tingles from hyperventilation, and my lungs feel tight, as if I don't need to breathe at all.
Again, a knock on the door, and in walks a young gal.
"Mr. Corey? My name is Monica, and I'm with Transport. I'm going to take you over to Radiology for a CAT scan. Are you ready?"
I nod, suddenly very tired. She rolls my gourney out the door and down the hall. Funny, I didn't notice the cool air of the hallway before. We get down to Radiology, and I'm wheeled into the room with a large white ring. "Here he is" Monica says.
A nice looking young lady walks over. "Hi, I'm Rose. I'll be running your test. Let's get you onto the table here."
We maneuver my body over. I'm suddenly aware that my entire backside is showing. Slightly embarrassed, I try again to tie the strings. Rose graciously helps me out, very professionally, and it eases my embarrassment.
Must happen a lot, I figure.
I lie on the stiff table, and they instruct me on what will happen, then leave the room. The table moves me into the ring, which is only about 1-2 feet thick. I hear the machine start to spin inside the ring. Rose asks me to put my arms over my head, and then to hold my breath. After a moment, she says I can breathe. We repeat this a couple of times, and the test is over. The table moves me back out of the ring and they come in to help me back onto my gourney.
"We'll have the results in a few minutes."
I thank them and Monica returns me to the room. And we wait. And wait. And wait. I turn on the TV to kill the boredom. Finally, a knock, and Scott walks in.
"Well, Jesse, you are the proud owner of a 2 millimeter stone in your left ureter, the tube that connects the kidney to the bladder."
"ONLY 2 millimeters?" I say incredulously. "It feels like a freakin' brick in there."
Scott nods. "I know. But, you see, the ureters are very small tubes, almost like a piece of cooked spaghetti. Any solid matter going through there is excruciating. It's about 1/3 of the way down. I'm afraid this isn't over. Of course, we have options. One, you can pass it on your own. Two, we might be able to use ultrasound to break it up. Or, three, we could go in with a basket and scope and capture it."
I involuntarily squeeze my legs together. "None of those sound very appealling."
"Understandable. Well, the third option is not bad, since we do it under general anesthesia. But, we do go send the scope up through the penis and through the urinary system that way. However, it's usually a last resort. The second option isn't bad, but two things: one, it may be too late to get to it, because when it gets too low, it's not effective and could damage other things. Two, your side is going to be very sore because the ultrasonic shock wave is like getting a bowling ball fired into your gut with a low-power cannon."
"Yeee...that doesn't sound good either." I say.
"That leaves passing it on your own."
"And ... oh gosh, I hate to even think about it coming out..."
"Actually, Jess, it's the easiest. Once the stone gets to the bladder, the rest is easy and will be painless since it's only 2mm."
"How can that be?" I ask, unbelieving.
"Simple. The urethra, the tube that comes from your bladder and through your penis, is a lot larger than the ureters. You probably won't even feel it leave your body. But, it will be painful until it gets to the bladder, so I'll prescribe pain meds for you and you can do the rest at home."
I ponder my choices, and decide to go with the least pain: passing it.
"All right. I'll get the discharge papers going, and write you a script for Percodan. In the mean time, drink a LOT of fluids, even beer, to help move that thing along. The sooner it's in the bladder, the sooner the pain will be gone. Excuse me." He exits.
"Well, JD, sounds like you're in for a rough way to go." Dad says sympathetically.
"I know, but I doubt it'll be much worse than I just had. I hope he's right about it not hurting."
"Well, I'm glad you're ok, that's the main thing." Mom says. "We'll go wait in the lobby for you."
They exit, leaving me there to ponder my fate. How on earth?
Scott comes back in. He notices I'm alone.
"I'm glad they left. I wanted to ask you how you're doing. I've been feeling worried about you since the last time we talked."
"I'm good" I say. "I'm living on my own, got my own place, got wealthy, and now trying to decide what to do with my life."
"Do you have anyone you're seeing right now?" he asks.
"No. Not at the moment. You?"
"Yeah, I've been going with a guy for a few months. I broke it off with that guy you caught me with. Got tired of his shit. Richard has been really good for me, though. He's a doctor, like me, and we just have a lot in common. Jesse, I just want to say again how sorry I am for the way things turned out. I hope that someday maybe we can be friends."
I look into his eyes...those eyes I once thought I loved. "Yeah, I think that might be possible...some day." I say. I reach out to shake his hand, which he smiles and returns.
"OK, Mr. Corey. Here's your prescription. Get it filled at once. Here's a kit for you. You'll need to strain your urine until you capture the stone. They'll want to analyze it to determine what it's made from. This will help your doctor understand what formed it and how to treat you. Also, you should contact your primary doctor and contact a urologist. Lastly, you will need to have an IVP done. That's just X-rays, but they'll put an iodine solution into your bloodstream to help it show up on the films better. Any questions?"
I have a million, but i say "Nope, I got it."
"OK, then, I'll send in the nurse with the papers to sign and you can get dressed."
"Thanks, Scott. I mean, Dr. Landry." I say, smiling.
"Any time." He smiles back and walks out. I get dressed, feeling loopy from the meds, and wait for the nurse to walk in.
"HI! I'm Marge!" a gruff woman walks in. "Sign here, here, and here." I do as she says (for fear of getting beat up if nothing else). She looks at me momentarily. "You know, you probably just experienced the closest feeling there is to labor pains." she says with some male-hating tone in her voice.
"Oh, I'm SO glad to know that, Marge!" I reply, dripping with sarcasm. I'm in no mood for that.
She huffs, grabs the clipboard, and says "You're free to go."
I take my papers and walk slowly out to the lobby. Mom and Dad are there.
"Son, I took care of the charges. You can pay me back." He adds as I start to protest. "I'll go get the car. Your mom went to the bathroom."
I sit in a waiting area chair, waiting. As I do, I notice one of the triage nurses keeps looking over at me. I frown, feeling a little "on-stage." Why do people do that? Makes me feel like a freak or something. Sure, my hair is messed up, but shit, I just nearly DIED in there. (OK, I exaggerate.)
I see Dad's SUV pull up to the doors. I get up and start to walk over. I feel like an 80 year old man. The nurse guy walks over, and puts a piece of paper in my hand.
"My name is Mike. Call me, when you get to feeling better." He grins then goes back to work. I stare after him, not believing what just happened. I jam the paper into my jeans and work my way to the car. Mom comes running up after me. "OK, let's go."
On the drive home, I conk out. Dad and Mom help me into the house, and get me set up on the couch. I fall asleep, exhausted from my ordeal.
To be continued...
Well, Jesse once again is going through some paces. This is almost a retelling of my first kidney stone experience, only I left out the getting sick because of hyperventilating. The experience and descriptions of pain are accurate, as is the test. My first one I had an IVP done right away that night. No big deal. And yes, it really DOESN'T hurt to pass a stone OUT of the body. I'm on #5 now. :)