My pee doctor is cute. She’s charming and quite funny. She’s clever and to the point. I admit I might even have a slight crush on her. What’s wrong, right? Her office sucks. If I could hold my own penis and had a spectrometer I think I could work faster than these people. I have jagged rocks in my body. This has been documented. An ultrasound showed the one in my bladder actually casts a shadow. A shadow? How big could it be? Big enough to cast a fucking shadow across the lonesome valley that is my bladder. That’s how big.
The second largest is in my left kidney. It’s just happy to bob about, sending my body into muscle spasms. These hurt.
They’ve been in me for about a year. It hasn’t been much of a bother until recently. I’ve given birth to over 40 stones, passing more than 30 in a three week span just last year. Painful to think about. It’s surgery this time, and that’s nuts to me. I’ll do whatever my cute doctor tells me to do, but need to get her office’s cooperation. Hint: call clients to confirm appointments. That usually helps. Now I must reschedule. Again. It’s not my job to do your job, people.