This past weekend was a really bad weekend. One for the personal Woolsey record books for sure. It may even be in the top two worst weekends we have ever had.
It started at 5:30am on Saturday. I woke up to find Chris acting really strange. He was pacing at a quick gate back and forth in the bedroom, almost frantic. Then he grabbed two towels and headed for the bathroom.
“What the hell are you doing Chris? It’s 5:30am on a Saturday?” I was annoyed for 5 seconds, and only slightly annoyed because my intuition told me something was really wrong with Chris.
Chris said, “my kidney hurts really badly!” as he lay almost lifeless against the latrine, writhing in pain. CALL THE DOCTOR! Chris shouted.
By 6am we were headed to the ER. It was really bad. I have never in my entire life seen someone in so much pain. What was coming from Chris’ mouth was somewhere between a loud cry and a moan and it was hideous to hear.
I didn’t know what to do with the kids. My parents were out-of-town. It was so early on a Saturday. I ran to my wonderful neighbor’s house and told her I really needed her to come over and watch the kids (who were still sleeping) while I took Chris to the ER. Since she is neighbor friend extraordinaire, she saved the day. The last thing the kids needed to see was their daddy moaning and writhing in agony.
I drove as fast as I could to the ER with Chris telling me to drive faster. I felt like there was a role reversal happening and maybe Chris was in labor.
The ER doctor confirmed what we expected: Chris was passing kidney stones. He had triplet kidney stones and birthing them was not going to be easy. Chris spent Saturday and Sunday downing pain pills, moaning, and barfing. Sage was also spending Saturday and Sunday barfing because she is also sick and is on antibiotics. The kids were on edge because they were worried about Chris and going absolutely stir-crazy in the house.
On Monday morning Chris’ boss sent him this clip to provide some comic relief. It is the first time Chris had cracked a smile in two and a half days.
On Monday night, Preston went into the bedroom to visit Chris. Preston began to count to 60 while rubbing Chris’ belly. When he was done counting he asked Chris to go pee. Chris went pee into his little strainer cup (used to try to catch the kidney stone in order to test it) and out popped the first kidney stone. Preston felt so proud that he helped his daddy get rid of it.
That night Chris gave birth to three gnarly looking triplet kidney stones, each around 2mm in size. We were all very relieved. Chris named his kidney stones ‘Ol Softy, Jack, and Jeffrey.
Chris’ boss waited until ‘Ol Softy, Jack and Jeffrey passed on through before he sent the second Seinfeld clip. He didn’t want to frighten Chris:
We took the kidney stones and headed up to take a closer look in Ava’s microscope. ‘Ol Softy, Jack and Jeffrey look like a small black pebble from the naked eye, but it looks like crystal daggers under the microscope.
It is amazing how something that is only 2 millimeters in size can cause so much pain and bring down a whole house of Woolseys for an entire weekend. But when we were going through this, we had family and friends who supported us and sympathized and checked in and took our kids for an afternoon. Chris’ brother texted wondering if he was still able to have sex during the ordeal. It was great to feel all the love (and humor) surround us in our time of misery.
Until next time, the mothership is signing off.