So, yeah. He’s okay now. But Holy Shit, that was scary.
I got to work at 8:05 yesterday morning. My phone rang at 8:10. Deputy Dad said, “I need you to come home RIGHT NOW. Something’s wrong with me. I don’t know what it is.”
Long story short, Deputy Dad passed a kidney stone at the hospital yesterday morning. He’s fine now – working tonight, even, – but I was absolutely terrified when we didn’t know what was wrong with him.
Rather than go through the long, drawn-out details of the whole ordeal, I’ll just share a few random observations:
- I’ve always heard that passing a kidney stone is the closest a man can come to experiencing the pain similar to what a woman goes through during labor and childbirth. I believe it now.
- I got my first taste of what Deputy Dad must have been feeling each time I was going through labor. Watching someone you love in so much pain1, and not being able to do anything about it, is the most helpless feeling in the world.
- Helping my husband pee through a STRAINER turned out to be a curious combination of humbling and amusing, especially since Deputy Dad was DRUGGED TO THE GILLS.
- When Deputy Dad finally
gave birthpassed the kidney stone, I named it Dagwood.2 He didn’t look a thing like me. I’m very suspicious.
- They wouldn’t let us bring Dagwood home. Something about unfit parents or lab analysis or some other such nonsense.
- After Deputy Dad passed the stone, the pain subsided almost immediately. He spent the rest of the day sleeping off the drugs, and was MUCH better today. Except for his back being a little sore, all of his parts are in perfect working condition. I thoroughly inspected and tested them myself this afternoon. TWICE.
- I am so relieved that the Love of My Life is okay. I can’t begin to describe the fear and panic of seeing him in so much pain and not knowing what was wrong. Words are not enough to express to you how much I love this man. He is my partner, my friend, my lover, the father of my children, my soul mate, my One True Love. Thank God he’s alright.
1Three births. No epidurals. ‘Nuff said.
2Dagwood is – I shit you not – the boy name Deputy Dad had picked out when I was pregnant with Miss Attitude. (We didn’t know the sex – with her or The Drama Queen – until they were born.) I swore to myself – for the sake of my unborn child – that I would not leave him alone with the birth certificate application.