THE WORST PAIN EVER.  It was by far the worst pain anyone on the face of the earth has ever felt.  Probably I am the only person in history who could survive that pain and live to tell about it.  And so I shall tell you about it, because the main point of having pain is being able to graphically describe it to anyone who will listen.  And in case you were wondering, no, I am not a drama queen.

It all started a few weeks ago with an annoying pain in my lower stomach.  I figured it was probably just indigestion.  Or cancer.  Anytime I have a pain that won’t go away my first thought is cancer.  I did what anyone who thinks they might have cancer does.  I ignored it.  Until it got really annoying.  When it got really annoying I started blaming my pain on everyone else.  “No, I am not crabby because I’m in pain.  I’m crabby because you didn’t do the dishes.”  “I’m crabby because the kids are fighting.”  “I’m crabby because you folded the towels in halves instead of thirds.” (Seriously, who does that?)

Finally, two days before Christmas, when The Pastor and I were starting to think about starting our Christmas shopping, things became ever so slightly excruciating.

“You don’t look so good, do you want to go to the emergency room?” The Pastor asked.  I gasped out something about dying and The Pastor loaded me up into his car.  Once in the car we had to make a decision.  Did we want to go to the closest hospital or the best hospital.  I had been to the closest hospital before with my children.  I have sat in that hospital’s emergency room watching the doctor chat up the nurses about plans for the weekend (Seriously?  I’m sitting right here!) for 45min before finally giving a bored sigh and wandering into the room we were in to take a look at the two broken bones in my child’s arm.  I was pretty sure I was going to die of old age before getting any answers at that hospital.  So we started driving.

About five minutes on the road and the “ever so slightly excruciating pain” became “almost the worst pain I have ever felt in my life”.  I started rethinking my decision to go to the good hospital.  I started thinking I’ll bet that if I repeatedly smashed that bored doctor’s face into the wall, she would become a lot less bored and fix me.  No, best not to risk jail time and a lawsuit, so we drove on.

A little further down the road and the pain was now officially “the worst pain I have ever felt in my life”.  Let me be clear.  I have experienced a lot of physical pain.  I gave birth to a 12lb 7oz posterior (that’s backwards, folks) baby in my living room (that’s without any pain relief, folks) and this was now worse.  I was now crying and accusing The Pastor of driving slow on purpose.  I won’t tell you how fast he was actually going because I’m not sure if blog posts can be used in a court of law.

Almost to the good hospital and the pain again increased to become “the worst pain anyone on the planet has ever felt”.  This is the part where I started fantasizing about throwing myself out of The Pastor’s car and into the path of the semi behind us.  I also started throwing up.  While I’m vomiting in his car, I start begging The Pastor to shoot me in the head.  Interestingly enough, even though I was vomiting in his vehicle, The Pastor refused to shoot me.  Obviously because he loves me so very much.  Also he didn’t have a gun.

Finally, we arrive at the hospital.  I can barely walk in the door and I certainly can’t breathe enough to talk to the receptionist.  The receptionist gets my basic information off of the insurance card I thrust in her face.  She then asks why I am there.  It is at this point that The Pastor decides to give her my entire medical history (thankfully very short).

“I just need to know why she’s here today.” the receptionist informed The Pastor.  The Pastor then begins to repeat my entire medical history.


This is all they need.  I was then whisked back to what I think is going to be the room of pain relief.  It is not the room of pain relief.  It is the room of 10,000 questions.  It is at this point that the doctor (who sounds and acts very much like Mr Rogers reincarnated, by the way) tells me that he wants to start an IV so that I can lie still in the CT machine.

“I have no idea what a CT machine is, but I swear, if it makes the pain go away I can lie as still as you need me to.” I promise him.

He smiles at me and says “Oh no, sweetie.  The CT scan just takes pictures of your insides.  The IV will take away the pain.  We’ll just put some ‘medicine’ in the IV and you will be feeling fine in no time.”  and that was just the way he said it.  You could actually hear the finger quotes around the word “medicine”.  Now I am perfectly aware that what they were giving me was in no way medicine.  At the time I was perfectly aware that what they were giving me was not going to heal me in any way.  Normally, I have a problem with this.  Normally I have a problem with treating the symptoms instead of the cause.  Normally I would have corrected Mr Rogers and said “Medicine heals disease, drugs just make you unaware of the symptoms.”  Instead I looked the man in the face and said “Bring on the needles.”

I must say I was a little disappointed when the IV was put in and I did not feel any relief, but I swear I could tell the moment the drugs hit my bloodstream.  I was praising Jesus from the depths of my soul and promising to never again take for granted a single pain free second for the rest of my life.  Then it was time for the CT scan.

In case you are wondering, I’m pretty sure a CT scan is not for taking pictures of your insides.  I’m pretty sure a CT scan is actually a test for claustrophobia.  A test which I probably would have failed except I told myself “If you start screaming they might take away the drugs and then the pain will come back.”  I was as still as a statue.

Finally Mr Rogers came back into the room and broke the news to me.  I had a kidney stone.

No.  No I do not have a kidney stone and this is why.  People get kidney stones all the time and I PROMISE you that no one has ever been in that much pain in the entire history of the world.  No one.  EVER.  Because if they had, it is all they would ever talk about for the rest of eternity.  And this is the very first blog post I have ever read about kidney stones.  I’m pretty sure that what actually happened is that Satan cursed me with the worst pain curse that has ever been inflicted on the human race.  A curse that just happens to be broken by the same things that dissolve kidney stones.

Once again no, I am not a drama queen.