Health knowledge made personal
Join this community!
› Share page:
Go
Search posts:

Kidney Stones and Starters and Ultimatums, Oh My!

Posted Apr 16 2013 4:17pm

Dave and I were watching The Carrie Diaries a week or so ago, and in that episode Carrie told her boyfriend Sebastian that she wanted to break up.  So they did.  Later on, she’s telling her friend about it and is shocked that he didn’t fight for her – he just agreed when she suggested they break up.  I was nodding in agreement with her as she said this, while Dave scoffed in disgust.  I turned to him and paused the show.

“You know, that really is how many girls think.”

He looked stunned, and I continued.  “The guy is supposed to know she doesn’t really mean it.  It’s just like a test for him – will he fight for her and their relationship?  Or will he just agree, which means he didn’t care enough.”

Dave disagreed, vehemently.  “NO.  If she says she wants to break up, she should mean it.  Why would he stay with her if she wants to break up?!”

I narrowed my eyes and challenged him.  “So if we got in a fight over something stupid, and in the heat of the moment I yelled and said I wanted a divorce, you would just DO IT?  You wouldn’t fight for us?”

He shrugged.  “Yeah.  If tell me you want a divorce, then I assume you really want a divorce.  Don’t say it if you don’t mean it.”

I shook my head.  “No, you should know I don’t really mean it and that people say things they don’t mean when they’re angry.  If you told me you wanted a divorce, I would never just accept it.  I would do everything I could to keep our marriage together!”

The show languished on ‘pause’ as we continued, although at this point we were kind of laughing at each other for getting so worked up.  Finally, I smacked Dave on the arm and told him he’s not allowed to ever agree if I tell him I want a divorce.  He grinned and acquiesced.  Luckily, I have long since outgrown my tendency to throw down huge ultimatums in the middle of a fight and, also luckily, we usually don’t fight.  We might have heated discussions, or disagree for a while before coming to a compromise, but it is very, very rare for us to have an actual yelling-at-each-other fight.  Still, it’s good to know that he’s so very literal!

In other news, last night I was playing Words With Friends when I heard Dave call out, “Honey?  Come here!” from the bathroom.  I ran down the hall, hoping he was going to deliver the news I wanted to hear.  He proudly wielded his strainer, which held…a dark gray kidney stone, much MUCH larger than I expected it to be.  I mean, I thought we might actually miss the thing, you know?  This looked like he’d plucked a piece of gravel from the road and tossed it in the strainer just to mess with me.

You know it’s true love when you’re high-fiving your husband and admiring the kidney stone he just passed at 11 pm.

It’s a good thing he passed it on his own, because when he called to make the appointment with Urology they told him the soonest they could get him in was May 20th!  Lord have mercy.

He kind of sighed this morning and told me, “I feel like I’ve been cheated.  I’ll never really know what the first week of Hep C treatment is supposed to be like…the kidney stone stole the spotlight!”

In one week he has not only started his Hep C treatment, passed a kidney stone and finished my mom’s kitchen (it looks great, mom!) but now our car won’t start [heavy sigh].  We assumed the battery ran down because when we got in the car the morning after his hospital visit, it wouldn’t start.  I figured maybe we didn’t shut one of the doors all the way, since it was so late and we were both really tired.  Dave put the battery charger on and we took our other car over to my mom’s.

But yesterday morning, when he was heading over there to finish up, it still wouldn’t start.  So he spent the morning taking the car apart, trying to figure out what was going on.  I suggested that we have it towed and looked at in a shop.  He looked as if I had just suggested we remove our clothing and do an interpretive dance on the sidewalk.  “No, of course I can fix it.  It just takes so damn long to actually get to the starter on these newer cars!”  He complained about clamps that needed to be removed and I nodded supportively.  I asked if he needed my help.  He made a little snort of laughter and went back to the garage, and I breathed a sigh of relief because, really, I know nothing about cars.

So now we have a new starter ordered and he’s going to pick it up in about a half hour.  After this, it would be helpful if we could get a little break on the crises.  *fingers crossed*


Post a comment
Write a comment: