Kidney Stones

On Thursday the 2nd of January, I was scheduled to have my kidney operated on to remove two stones that had become too big to pass naturally. I had met the surgeon on three occasions, twice for him to apologise to me. You see, this whole experience of mine is just one big—cock-up and possibly my fault

The first time we met was when he said that owing to my list of medical issues he considered an operation too much of a risk under general anaesthetic and would prefer using electro-magnetic laser beams to break the stones into smaller pieces which would be easier to pass. There was a period in my life when renal colic and I were on friendly terms and this form of treatment was one I’d had many times and although considerably modernised, it held no mystic for me.

I attended the appointment to be blasted only to be surprised by the radiologist’s discovery of me having a pacemaker recorded on my medical records as being in-situ. ‘Oh no,’ he said. ‘We can’t proceed with this treatment until I know all the ramifications involved.’ Off the table went I, dressed and away home wondering what next. Next came the first apology from the surgeon which left me believing that the electro-magnetic waves might affect the pacemaker but as soon as they stopped the pacemaker would recover. No mention was made of a full operation.

Then came the letter. ‘An appointment has been made for you to attend surgical admissions at 7am on the 2nd of January. I thought the change of mind must have resulted after a reexamination of the scans.

I arrived on time, went through the scrambled pre-med assessments and pep talk signing on the dotted line for what I stupidly imagined to be the macho-thing of putting a weak heart and emphysema through a procedure that a bull-like me would laugh at. I gave no thought to the possibility of the bull becoming an ox, nor did I worry when hearing the second apology from my soon to be torturer—‘Sorry to have mucked you about, Mr. Kemp, but in half an hour’s time you will be stone free.’

Two hours thirty minutes later I was told the operation had been far more complicated than he’d thought. Apparently, my prostate gland was enlarged forcing him into strange manoeuvres to get passed it with his instruments of torture. My prostate gland is mentioned on my medical records as being permanently enlarged with part of it containing cancerous cells. Perhaps he had missed that entry when reading about my medical issues. Common sense would advise leaving well alone and not aggravating the gland.

That didn’t worry me then. All I was concerned with was the bag I was connected to that captured the blood infected urine I was passing via a catheter tube. I was repeatedly told all would be well even though I was not to be allowed home that day. By Friday, I was told, I’d be in my own flat.

Around 6am Friday morning the catheter tube was removed by one of the two-night nurses. Half an hour or so later I went for a shower. Whilst there I attempted to use the toilet to urinate. The pain was terrible and on the beloved scale of 1-10, a good 8+. I managed only to pass a small amount of blood. With the aid of my stick I got back to my bed and sat in the chair beside it. I think no-one else was awake then; that wasn’t to last long. Soon I had an urgent need to use the bedpan. This time the agony was off the scale and nothing like any renal colic pain I’d experienced before. I screamed uncontrollably as the pain hit my kidney and then travelled into my bladder. Morphine was offered and I took it. An hour later I thought I was about to die.

I had gone to use a bedpan in a toilet that I hadn’t yet used. Luckily the toilet was tiny and as the pain hit me I fell against the door but I grasped at something that held me upright. A nurse was the other side of the door calling out if I was okay. Somehow or other I managed to unlock the door and get into the wheelchair that appeared from nowhere. This time the pain did not go. I never saw my reflection, but I felt clammy and by the attention I was getting from the assembly of nurses who’d gathered around, I must have given the impression of death in a wheelchair!

More morphine, then a doctor’s instructions to insert another catheter which resulted in the loss of the pain. Two devotees of the surgeon were at the end of the bed after he left asking if I could manage at home. By choice, I live alone. My ex-wife and I get on well when not living in each other’s pockets. She had stayed in my flat since Wednesday night looking after my little dog. Yes, I could ask her and yes, she would possibly agree to stay, but I wasn’t going to ask. I was without pain for all of Friday and on Saturday I returned to my dog and flat. On Monday the district nurse arrived with what she said the hospital should have given me when discharged, but no matter, I had it now.

It has been seven days now spent at home and for the vast majority of that span of time my armchair has supported me admirably. I have cooked baked potatoes on two evenings and had bread from my local bakery to feed on for other meals. I’ve lost about 8-10 pounds in weight which in truth I can afford to lose, but exercise is something I cannot do. The follow-up appointment to this kidney procedure is on the twentieth of this month with X-rays and a CT Scan at 8:30am followed by a visit to the surgeons’ clinic at 9:15. It’s there the catheter and the stent are due to be removed provided the previous examinations show no abnormalities.

I’m of the opinion that it will be at this clinic I will be facing some difficult decisions. One could result in leaving me permanently incontinent or another could be an operation to either reduce the size of the prostate and risk the cancer carried therein spreading to other organs and bones, or remove the gland and face the consequences of that. I not medically trained, but having a stent and catheter inside me for two weeks must have caused the muscles that are used to retain fluids in the bladder to certainly weaken their effect, if not to eliminate their ability for good.

Before the 2nd of January I had kidney stones with the possibility of pain sometime in the future. Today I’m stone free but with the possibility of pain, or worse, in the future. I was stupid to agree to this operation. I shall not be so quick to agree with the next one to remove the four parathyroid glands that make the calcium that amongst other things, make the kidney stones.

About Daniel Kemp

Daniel Kemp’s introduction to the world of espionage and mystery happened at an early age when his father was employed by the War Office in Whitehall, London, at the end of WWII. However, it wasn’t until after his father died that he showed any interest in anything other than himself! On leaving academia he took on many roles in his working life: a London police officer, mini-cab business owner, pub tenant and licensed London taxi driver, but never did he plan to become a writer. Nevertheless, after a road traffic accident left him suffering from PTSD and effectively—out of paid work for four years, he wrote and self-published his first novel —The Desolate Garden. Within three months of publication, that book was under a paid option to become a $30 million film. The option lasted for five years until distribution became an insurmountable problem for the production company. All seven of his novels are now published by Creativia with the seventh—The Widow’s Son, completing a three book series alongside: What Happened In Vienna, Jack? and Once I Was A Soldier. Under the Creativia publishing banner, The Desolate Garden went on to become a bestselling novel in World and Russian Literature in 2017. The following year, in May 2018, his book What Happened In Vienna, Jack? was a number one bestseller on four separate Amazon sites: America, UK, Canada, and Australia.  Although it's true to say that he mainly concentrates on what he knows most about; murders laced by the mystery involving spies, his diverse experience of life shows in the short stories he writes, namely: Why? A Complicated Love, and the intriguing story titled The Story That Had No Beginning. He is the recipient of rave reviews from a prestigious Manhattan publication and described as—the new Graham Green—by a highly placed employee of Waterstones Books, for whom he did a countrywide tour of book signing events. He has also appeared on 'live' television in the UK publicising that first novel of his. He continues to write novels, poetry and the occasional quote; this one is taken from the beginning of Once I Was A Soldier There is no morality to be found in evil. But to recognise that which is truly evil one must forget the rules of morality.
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16 Responses to Kidney Stones

  1. Ohh Danny, you are in my healing prayers and I am asking for healing energy for you. ❤

  2. Daniel Kemp says:

    Thank you for that, Jane. I reckon I can use all the help I can get.

  3. Daniel Kemp says:

    I’m hoping the boredom might work as an antibiotic and force my body to recover without any side-effects. 🙂

  4. Mick Canning says:

    Blimey, Danny, wishing you all the best!

  5. delphini510 says:

    Daniel, that is not a happy saga. Illnesses seem sent to test our endurance and strength of both body and mind. May you soon recover to live a life freed from the armchair.
    Bless

    Miriam

  6. Oh, Danny, I am so sorry to read this. It really is most unfortunate and it seems the surgeon didn’t do his homework properly. With regards to your comment about your bladder muscles getting weak due to the catheter, that won’t happen. My son has had 18 operations on his urethrae and bladder and had a catheter for a few weeks following each. It has not effected his bladder strength at all. I hope you get good news at your next visit. Following our unhappy experiences in this regard, I have a healthy disrespect for doctors and surgeons who never tell us the full risks.

  7. Daniel Kemp says:

    I seem to have run across one with this problem. Thank you for the reassurance, Robbie, that’s kind.

  8. Onisha Ellis says:

    I agree with Robertawrites, Danny. My friend had to have a catheter for several months and he did not lose muscle tone and is living his normal life. Doing very well for a man in his 80s. Stay positive, you’ve got this! I will keep praying for healing.

  9. Daniel Kemp says:

    Two people agreeing gives me encouragement, Onisha. Thank you for your positive comment.

  10. Onisha Ellis says:

    Has anyone heard from Danny recently? He hasn’t posted on Facebook after sharing that he was back in the hospital.

  11. Daniel Kemp says:

    I caught Sepsis, Onisha, and had a very scary time. Out of hospital but a bit slow to get everything done. Thank you for caring. 🙂

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