Sunday morning I noticed a little burning when I urinated. Sunday afternoon I roamed the mall and found a giant bottle of Vitamin C with Cranberry, ran home and took two doses of it.

I felt better within a few hours. Better, but not good.

Monday and Tuesday were okay, but it was an extremely busy week, so I just gobbled vitamins and naproxen and hoped it would go away. By Tuesday night I was virtually in tears. I added half an ambien to the vitamin/naproxen cocktail hoping that I would just sleep through the pain, and knowing that I had Jane’s transition ceremony Wednesday morning. (tip: Ambien is not a pain killer, I didn’t sleep well but I was groggy all day Wednesday) I spent Wednesday morning delighted for my daughter, but still very uncomfortable. Going to the bathroom was excruciating. Finally, I called the doctor.

Of course my doctor does travelers medicine. I walked into the office at 2pm, exchanged pleasantries, and went into the bathroom to pee in a cup. The office is tiny, so when I walked back out, cup of urine in hand, I about bumped into a bride and her husband who were getting hepatitis vaccines for their trip to Bali. As I tried to hold back tears, the bride harangued the groom, wanting to know where they would vacation next year.

Because I am an adult I did not ask him what he thought his second wife might be like. Adulthood sucks.

Within moments my vitals were being taken, and then I was whisked into an exam room where I was asked about my menstrual cycle. The phase, “a significant amount of blood” was used. They asked if I had any pain in back, I said “not much,” and the physician’s assistant told me I had to use the prescriptions correctly, “We want to protect your kidneys.” I left with a prescription for antibiotics and something that turns your pee bright orange (Pyridium?), but numbs your bladder so you don’t think you’re dying every time you’re going to the bathroom.

Pyridium will freak your kids out. No matter how many times you flush the toilet it will still look like someone took a radioactive piss. No, I am not showing y’all pictures, I have the smallest bits of pride left (smallest really).

So, I made it to the pharmacy and gobbled Pyridium hoping for quick relief. I was back to the school by three, picked up both my kids, did an errand with them, and basically stuck them in front of the TV while I tried to not pass out. This was the weirdest infection ever.

Until I went to take a radioactive pee, felt like I was experiencing childbirth, only worse, hyperventilated and cried alone on the toilet and then heard *pling*.

The tiniest little rock-like thing was in my urine stream, and I swear to all that is holy, that numbing medicine might have saved me from a heart attack. I heard a sound come out of my mouth, but I still don’t know how I made it, or why.

I’m still really uncomfortable today, and my stepmother reminded me that I should have kept the stone for analysis. Which I totally would have done, were I willing to stick my hands into radioactive pee.