All Clear!

For real this time. I went back to my urologist's office this morning. They first sent me down to radiology for some x-rays. The tech made copies, and I carried the dupes back upstairs. I waited for a couple of minutes, and Dr. Zimmerman breezed in and told me they couldn't see anything blocking the ureter anymore.

"Here, come look at this ..."

He takes me to the hall to look at my x-rays.

"This is where it was," he says, pointing to a spot somewhere in my translucent abdomen. "And now there's nothing there. So I think the next step is to get you back in next week to remove the stent."

"So there's no chance of there being something still there, hidden?"

"No, I think you're fine. And even if some tiny piece was left, you'll be dilated from the stent and it'll come right out. I'll meet you at the front to set up the time."

My regular doctor, who recommended Dr. Zimmerman, had told me he lacked some bedside manners, but I think he did a good job in a fast, no funny business sort of way. When it comes to things stuck or jammed in your hoo-hah, you don't want any funny business.

At the desk they set me up for a same-day surgery appointment next week (to get the stent out) and then asked me if I had any other questions.

“Yeah, just one. What do they do with my x-rays after they’re done with them?”

“Why, do you want them?”

“Well, yeah, I guess. I did pay for them, after all.”

“Hmm, let me see. They sent you upstairs with copies, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Let me check.”

She leaves for a minute before returning with an oversized envelope.

“They’re all yours, Josh.”

“Thanks!”

After all the thousands I’ll end up spending (via my insurance) on emergency room costs, doctor visits and getting the stone out, those x-rays may end up the only souvenir I actually get to keep.

(Yes, that's me up there.)