That's the gift my body decided to give me the week of my birthday. Boy, if this is what it feels like to get old, then count me out. The week of my 20th birthday I get kidney stones. Yuuuum.

I woke up around 2 A.M. to horrible piercing pain at my lower right back. It got so bad that the pain started towards the front, my stomach. I've been through over thirteen surgeries and I'd like to think that I'm pretty brave when it comes to pain.

I cried. Twice. It was that bad. Everyone in the hospital including the doctors and nurses told me how that pain is very similar to labor pain (another reason the world is giving me to not have kids, it's a sign!). At one point I turned to my mother and said "This is why I don't want kids" and she started laughing.

Arriving at the hospital at about 3 A.M. (in my pajamas) through the Emergency Room, I was finally attended to at 6 A.M. and finally given pain medication at 7 A.M.

At about eight they ran a CAT scan on me and found my kidney stones, the largest being four millimeters big. Ouch. The nameless doctor said that I most likely will feel the same pain again, and I most likely will go through pain passing the stones, but he prescribed a boat-load of pills to keep me nice and drugged up until around the end of the week where I'm due to pass them through a nice pee.

Happy 20th Birthday, Melissa.