Bloody Hell and Hurricanes

Amid the groaning, gasping, and writhing these last few days, the stone continues the ride to freedom. How do I know? The erratic presence of blood in the urine is usually a dead giveaway.

The lower back pain subsided again last evening and I was able to call my sister to check on NOLA and the Gulf Coast situation without my voice trembling. We talked for about an hour and she said that St. Bernard Parish was evacuating and some areas of Orleans Parish were waiting for word. Of course, the parishes closer to the Gulf were already under a mandatory evacuation order, but Mayor Nagin has been his usual useless self.

I mentioned that news stories I’d seen were more concerned for the oil rigs than about people in the area. Said I’d been trying to reach her all day; calling every hour on the hour; she said she had been in tenant meetings all day planning the evacuation of all tenants from the apartments. She’s very glad to hear from me and will call when they get to wherever they plan to go. Needless to say I’m happy to have caught up with her as well.

She had already gassed up the car and packed basic supplies; she would pick up my niece and her children when the final decision was made. I can tell that she’s anxious, if not downright scared. Who can blame her after all she’s lost?

Note that the "cone" of the projected path in the image above has narrowed today to encompass Mississippi, Louisiana, and Texas. That doesn't bode well.

So, with peace of mind that the sister was OK with a getaway a plan, and being relatively pain-free I turned in for some needed sleep. That peaceful rest was shattered at 5 am when I woke feeling that I had been kicked – hard. Took something for the pain and returned to bed hoping to lie still while the pill took hold and breathing would get back to normal.

Half hour later and still no let up; now bathroom calls, so off I go (so to say) and it is immediately obvious that nothing is happening. As I look down to figure out the problem a small clot plops out and a stream of cola-coloured urine explodes into the bowl. No pain, but said clot means the little irritation has been on the move.

While the level of pain isn’t as horrific as last week (at least at the moment), I am wondering if there might be a second rock about to dislodge and go with the flow – sorry – following its brother. I dread to think about that, but there is that possibility.

Yes, I am drinking plenty of water and the occasional green tea, but mostly water.

And so it goes.

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