…broke out in a cold sweat and quickly began writhing around and wailing in pain like a wild animal caught in a bear trap. The pain came in excruciating waves radiating as though I had just been punched below the belt– repeatedly.
that might be difficult to answer. But I’m going to go with two kidney stones– back to back, or more precisely, two kidney stones, and a tiny cyst and a 1.5 cm lesion on and in my kidney, respectively– which is my current diagnosis. An ultrasound was unable to rule out cancer for the lesion.
And so I wait. A CT scan with contrast is next, probably sometime later this week– after a pre-cert from my insurer, Cigna– which has yet to fail me.
As you might imagine, the last week– what with the back to back kidney stones and all was less than comfortable. But fortunately, the pain comes in waves and as the week wore on and I became more accustomed to the new and seemingly interminable rhythm, I was able to work in between the waves. And doing so brought me no small measure of joy– no longer reduced to a being defined solely by pain, I produced. I contributed. I was not merely subject to.
And so this blog.
The presence of the cyst caught me unawares. Initially diagnosed as one of two stones waiting in the wings back at the E.R., they were presented to me as nothing I’d have to worry about in the near future. Still in the kidney itself, they might have proved candidates for blasting . The follow-up trip to the urologist disabused me of this notion while apprising me that the one “stone” was a cyst which would have to be further examined so as to rule out density– which is a euphemism for cancer.
And in a moment it all changes. I got the sonogram later that day, and later that night I wrote to this blog’s Editor-in-Chief, somewhat incredulous as to how I signed things for that test– legal documents– in a haze of fear, pain and painkillers. Legally trained, I scribbled my name or initials on everything before me with what barely amounted to a perfunctory glance as I received one sentence explanations from the admittance clerk for one page fine print documents– no doubt painstakingly wrought by the pens of my legal brethren to ensure compliance– and payment. But I assure you, the compliance was a one-sided affair. Because, as our Editor-in-Chief Frank Pasquale has said so many times before, the acquisition of healthcare is fundamentally different than buying other commodities. It is not like buying a car; the economy of healthcare is unconventional – far more akin to “how much would you pay for a glass of water in the desert,” than how much of a rebate is available on that new Kia Soul. A hard bargainer, car dealers hate me. In the legal world, I’ve built a reputation as someone with a cold hard eye for a contract. In the hospital, I signed with an almost wild abandon–wondering who would take care of my children as I did.
And today I got the results. One kidney stone gone, one still making its way, and
“Tiny parapelvic cyst right kidney. This does not appear to correspond to the 1.5 cm visualized right renal lesion on CT scan. Therefore, possibility of a solid lesion not visible ultrasonographically cannot be ruled [out].”
His footsteps loud as he walked down the hall, the melodramatic stringed theme from “The Godfather” played in the room as the doctor entered and explained. Even if it is cancerous, I’m told it’s small. Maybe even too small to do anything but wait to see what it does– and test the rest of me to see if it migrated from someplace else.
But whatever this process may be, I think there might be some value in my writing about it– for both of us. No longer mired in the abstractions of healthcare, I am, it seems, walking straight into the belly of the beast. Consider this a postcard of sorts– with the hope that it can work itself into being a guide.
that might be difficult to answer. But I’m going to go with two kidney stones– back to back, or more precisely, two kidney stones, and a tiny cyst and a 1.5 cm lesion on and in my kidney, respectively– which is my current diagnosis. An ultrasound was unable to rule out cancer for the lesion.
And so I wait. A CT scan with contrast is next, probably sometime later this week– after a pre-cert from my insurer, Cigna– which has yet to fail me.
As you might imagine, the last week– what with the back to back kidney stones and all was less than comfortable. But fortunately, the pain comes in waves and as the week wore on and I became more accustomed to the new and seemingly interminable rhythm, I was able to work in between the waves. And doing so brought me no small measure of joy– no longer reduced to a being defined solely by pain, I produced. I contributed. I was not merely subject to.
And so this blog.
The presence of the cyst caught me unawares. Initially diagnosed as one of two stones waiting in the wings back at the E.R., they were presented to me as nothing I’d have to worry about in the near future. Still in the kidney itself, they might have proved candidates for blasting . The follow-up trip to the urologist disabused me of this notion while apprising me that the one “stone” was a cyst which would have to be further examined so as to rule out density– which is a euphemism for cancer.
And in a moment it all changes. I got the sonogram later that day, and later that night I wrote to this blog’s Editor-in-Chief, somewhat incredulous as to how I signed things for that test– legal documents– in a haze of fear, pain and painkillers. Legally trained, I scribbled my name or initials on everything before me with what barely amounted to a perfunctory glance as I received one sentence explanations from the admittance clerk for one page fine print documents– no doubt painstakingly wrought by the pens of my legal brethren to ensure compliance– and payment. But I assure you, the compliance was a one-sided affair. Because, as our Editor-in-Chief Frank Pasquale has said so many times before, the acquisition of healthcare is fundamentally different than buying other commodities. It is not like buying a car; the economy of healthcare is unconventional – far more akin to “how much would you pay for a glass of water in the desert,” than how much of a rebate is available on that new Kia Soul. A hard bargainer, car dealers hate me. In the legal world, I’ve built a reputation as someone with a cold hard eye for a contract. In the hospital, I signed with an almost wild abandon–wondering who would take care of my children as I did.
And today I got the results. One kidney stone gone, one still making its way, and
“Tiny parapelvic cyst right kidney. This does not appear to correspond to the 1.5 cm visualized right renal lesion on CT scan. Therefore, possibility of a solid lesion not visible ultrasonographically cannot be ruled [out].”
His footsteps loud as he walked down the hall, the melodramatic stringed theme from “The Godfather” played in the room as the doctor entered and explained. Even if it is cancerous, I’m told it’s small. Maybe even too small to do anything but wait to see what it does– and test the rest of me to see if it migrated from someplace else.
But whatever this process may be, I think there might be some value in my writing about it– for both of us. No longer mired in the abstractions of healthcare, I am, it seems, walking straight into the belly of the beast. Consider this a postcard of sorts– with the hope that it can work itself into being a guide.