Remember my story a couple of months ago regarding my (then) doctor’s suspicion I may have been gestating a kidney stone? Could I Be Carrying my Sixth Baby?
Well... after an inconclusive ultrasound I was sent for a CAT scan.
I was frightened when I read on the Internet they inject you with the contrast dye. In fact I didn’t sleep for the week before my appointment and drove Scotto up the wall with my neurotic, hypochondriac hysterics.
“My friend Nettie’s Aunt went into kidney failure from the dye and now she’s on dialysis for the rest of her life!”
I spluttered at Scotto on the morning of the procedure.
“How old was she, Pinky?” he demanded.
“Eighty-something… and I admit she only had one kidney to start with… but even so!”
He had to practically push me out the door.
The next day I sat in the doctor’s surgery as she perused the results of the CT scan, attempting to read the expression on her face.
'Was I dying? Was this the end for Pinky?'
The doctor wore a troubled, almost irritated expression; this wasn’t looking good.
“Unfortunately…” she sighed dramatically. Adrenaline shot through my body, my breath quickened in fear and I tasted metal in my mouth.
“Unfortunately… the CT scan isn’t showing us any more detail than the ultrasound. Why didn’t you have the dye injected?” she asked in a slightly edgy tone of voice.
“Um,” relief flooded my body. “The technician said I didn’t HAVE to have it if I didn’t want it.”
The doctor stared at me for a few seconds of intensity and scribbled a note on her pad. She was probably writing something mean about me being an annoying patient or something.
“I’m sending you to a specialist,” the doctor said wiping her hands of me like Pontius Pilate did when he sent a certain Someone to see King Herod. “She’s a Uro-Gynecologist and should be able to sort out all your problems for you.”
So, yesterday I fronted up to my very own Uro-Gynecologist after an apprehensive two month wait.
She didn’t care about me chickening out of the contrast dye. She seemed to be able to read the CT scan perfectly.
“One of your kidneys is slightly enlarged as is the opening to one of your ureters,” she declared. “It could be the result of a few factors; stones, a congenital fault, a kink, or even a foreign body… but that’s unlikely considering your history,” she added whilst quickly scanning my form.
I was prescribed some straight forward tablets and have to schedule another ultrasound in three months. My kidney function is perfectly normal and she didn’t seem at all concerned. I practically skipped out of the surgery in joy.
I’m not dying!
However, one thing continued to puzzle and intrigue me. How could a foreign body possibly get into a ureter and why did the doctor think it was an unlikely scenario for me?
So… I looked it up.
It seems, the most common way is for a foreign body to be poked up into the ureter by the patient themselves!
I read a case of a fifty year old man who had, for autoerotic purposes, rammed a rod up his ureter and when it became stuck then inserted a magnet. That trick also failed so he did what any straight thinking auto-eroticist would do and poked another magnet up to retrieve the first.
“How old was she, Pinky?” he demanded.
“Eighty-something… and I admit she only had one kidney to start with… but even so!”
He had to practically push me out the door.
The next day I sat in the doctor’s surgery as she perused the results of the CT scan, attempting to read the expression on her face.
'Was I dying? Was this the end for Pinky?'
The doctor wore a troubled, almost irritated expression; this wasn’t looking good.
“Unfortunately…” she sighed dramatically. Adrenaline shot through my body, my breath quickened in fear and I tasted metal in my mouth.
“Unfortunately… the CT scan isn’t showing us any more detail than the ultrasound. Why didn’t you have the dye injected?” she asked in a slightly edgy tone of voice.
“Um,” relief flooded my body. “The technician said I didn’t HAVE to have it if I didn’t want it.”
The doctor stared at me for a few seconds of intensity and scribbled a note on her pad. She was probably writing something mean about me being an annoying patient or something.
“I’m sending you to a specialist,” the doctor said wiping her hands of me like Pontius Pilate did when he sent a certain Someone to see King Herod. “She’s a Uro-Gynecologist and should be able to sort out all your problems for you.”
So, yesterday I fronted up to my very own Uro-Gynecologist after an apprehensive two month wait.
She didn’t care about me chickening out of the contrast dye. She seemed to be able to read the CT scan perfectly.
“One of your kidneys is slightly enlarged as is the opening to one of your ureters,” she declared. “It could be the result of a few factors; stones, a congenital fault, a kink, or even a foreign body… but that’s unlikely considering your history,” she added whilst quickly scanning my form.
I was prescribed some straight forward tablets and have to schedule another ultrasound in three months. My kidney function is perfectly normal and she didn’t seem at all concerned. I practically skipped out of the surgery in joy.
I’m not dying!
However, one thing continued to puzzle and intrigue me. How could a foreign body possibly get into a ureter and why did the doctor think it was an unlikely scenario for me?
So… I looked it up.
It seems, the most common way is for a foreign body to be poked up into the ureter by the patient themselves!
I read a case of a fifty year old man who had, for autoerotic purposes, rammed a rod up his ureter and when it became stuck then inserted a magnet. That trick also failed so he did what any straight thinking auto-eroticist would do and poked another magnet up to retrieve the first.
And wouldn’t you know it, the two silly magnets stuck together leaving the gentleman in a spot of bother.
If you think this is more of Pinky’s utter rubbish and I’m making it up, then here's the link. There are even photos for the more quizzical amongst you!
One thing I’m very relieved about however, is that my Uro-Gynecologist (after looking at my history) did not believe Pinky is the type of person who would experiment with her ureter in such an irresponsible manner.
If you think this is more of Pinky’s utter rubbish and I’m making it up, then here's the link. There are even photos for the more quizzical amongst you!
One thing I’m very relieved about however, is that my Uro-Gynecologist (after looking at my history) did not believe Pinky is the type of person who would experiment with her ureter in such an irresponsible manner.