The Monster Inside Me
20 Years of Stones, a Brutal Blockage, and a Liter of Relief
I’ve been passing kidney stones for 20 years. You could say I’m a veteran—I’ve learned the tricks: chug water, jump on a trampoline, take the pain meds, and eventually hear that telltale ricochet in the toilet. Most of them have been small enough to go on their own, annoying but manageable.
This one was different.
It started like the others: that familiar ache in my flank, the radiating pain, the blood in my urine. But then it got stuck—lodged somewhere between my kidney and bladder, blocking the flow completely. The pressure built fast, and the pain went from “I know this drill” to “I can’t stand up.” It was so intense that it finally drove me to the ER, something I hadn’t needed for a stone in years.
They did the scan: a monster over 10mm, bright white on the imaging, sitting in my bladder and prostate area like it had rented the place. The ER team confirmed what I already suspected—it wasn’t passing on its own.
Then came the catheter saga. A student nurse (a guy, bless his heart, he was trying his best) tried twice, but the pain and swelling made it impossible. Finally, the experienced ER nurse stepped in and got the Foley in. The moment it was placed, it was like opening a dam—a full liter of urine came rushing out. The relief was immediate and overwhelming. My bladder had been screaming for hours, and suddenly it could breathe again.
The urologist says the stone is too big to pass naturally, so the plan is laser cystolitholapaxy (laser lithotripsy via cystoscopy)—a minimally invasive procedure where they go in through the urethra, blast the stone into fragments with a laser, and flush them out. No big incisions, no long stay. It’s scheduled for next Friday.
In the meantime, I’m living with the catheter. It tugs when I move, causes bladder spasms (those sudden, violent urges that feel like a cramp in your pelvis), and requires constant vigilance—taping the tube to my leg, keeping everything clean to avoid infection, drinking tons of water to keep the flow steady. The spasms wake me up at night, and every bathroom trip is a reminder of the tube.
But I know it’s temporary.
That liter of relief showed me how much the blockage was hurting me, and the catheter is keeping things safe until the laser evicts the monster.
I’m sharing this because kidney stones are more common than people realize, and when they get stuck, they can turn ugly fast. If you’ve got the pain, blood, or that “something’s blocked” feeling—especially if you’re a repeat offender like me—don’t tough it out.
Get checked. A quick scan and the right intervention can save you a world of hurt.
Next Friday, the laser wins. Until then, I’m staying hydrated, managing the discomfort, and counting down the days.
Wishing everyone a stone-free holiday season. You’ve got this. 💪



One of my sister’s husbands had an operation every year because of these b’s. How he stayed such a saintly character I can’t imagine. Good luck, and here’s hoping your blessed relief lasts a long, long time!
I have never had kidney stones, so I appreciate your willingness to describe the details of your experience. Wishing you the best!