Rant #3,823: The Family Stone

First, happy birthday to my beautiful wife.

Her birthday was yesterday, on a tough Monday, when we had to wake up early and go to my retinologist.

She was born on the Marine Corps' birthday, and her father was a Marine, and she celebrated her latest birthday on what was the 250th birthday of the Corps.

We had gifts and cake and all the usual stuff associated with her birthday, and honestly, I wish I could give her more.

But our son and I did what we could.

Otherwise, the last couple of days have been a whirlwind for myself and my family.

On Thursday night, out of the blue, I experienced terrible pain on my left side, I had trouble walking, was throwing up, and my wife took me to the hospital.

I have kidney stones, and I was experiencing a major flare up. 

My wife drove me to a local hospital, and I was still feeling a lot of distress when we arrived there.

They did a lot of tests on me, hooked me up to different machines and gadgets, and after about six hours, I was finally put in a room, and pretty much conked out.

Friday morning, I was feeling much better as I was pumped up with morphine and other painkillers.

I could not eat, just in case I would have needed a procedure to remove the stones, but it was determined that I had a flareup that did not need surgery, and that I possibly could pass the stones myself--at home.

It was actually one stone in particular that was in question, but by 3 pm on Friday, I was discharged.

I was told that the flareup could have been exacerbated by the tough week I had had; let me tell you, you don't even know the half of it, as I experienced what was probably the toughest week that I had in 2025.

So basically, I went home, with a game plan:

To really take it easy ...

Or actually act like I am actually retired.

I did nothing over the weekend; a little driving, but nothing else.

On Saturday morning, I felt a little strange but not sick, and I went to the bathroom--

And I might--or might not--have passed the stone, or a partial stone. I won't get into how I know, but if you have had this yourself, you kind of just sort of know.

Let's hope i am correct.

I still feel a little strange--not sick but not myself--but I am OK.

And did it mention that the hospital mixed up the medicine that they prescribed me with someone else's?

I had it out with them over the phone, but let's just say they sent me on a wild goose chase--

Not good when you just spent about 18 hours in the hospital, without eating, further stressing me out.

But now, I feel a bit strange, but not ill, so I think that this was an omen, one telling me to take it easy.

Some of that is out if my control, but I just have to take it down a notch or two or three.

I don't feel that I am old, just that I am not 25 anymore.

And on Monday, at the retinologist, I was told that in December, I will need a procedure to repair a partially torn retina.

Just what i need during the holiday season.

i went through this with my left leg a couple of years ago during the holiday season, and now i am going to have another surgery right before the holidays, but it has to be done, so that's that.

On Facebook, an old friend from Rochdale Village put up a bar mitzvah photo from 55 years ago, and there I was, with a full head of hair.

I had never seen the photo before, and it got me to thinking ...

Yes, that is me, but I was just 13 years old then.

Physically, I am the same person i was back then, but mentally, physically and emotionally, I am a completely different person.

And at age 68 ... well, I am not 13 anymore.

If I knew then what I know now ...

But it would have taken all of the "fun" from the ensuing 55 years.

Happy birthday to my wife.

That is "fun."

That is the type of "fun" I really need.