Lola makes an unplanned trip to the doctor.

Today is a Monday, and I’m at home in my recliner. 

Early today I was working… because, that’s what most people with full-time jobs do on Monday mornings.  This morning I was out the door at 6am to do a breakfast for a big office in College Station.  I picked up some bagels and coffee and met with two doctors who are very important to my sales.  I drank a little too much orange juice and ended up making a quick trip to the ladies room on the way out of the hospital.

This is the part where, if you get grossed out easily, or if you are a very private person, you just need to stop reading.  I mean, on a scale of 1 to 10 in terms of this being “gross” I’d say that on the Finley-Griffin scale, it’s really only a 2.  But, hey, not judging you if it’s more of a 7 or 8 on your own scale.

So, if you have a more sensitive emotional gross-out scale than I do, here is the short version… I came across an unusual “symptom” and then decided I’d better call my doctor, and that led to the doctor telling me to come see him, and that led to labwork, and everything should be cool.  Poppyseed should be okay, and we’ll know more details on Wednesday. The end.

If your emotional scale is similar to that of the Finley-Griffin scale, or if you are in the health industry, or watch a lot of Grey’s Anatomy, or if you are a mom who has dealt with body fluids that are not your own on a regular basis, well in that case I’d say you’ll be just fine. 

So I left my breakfast, went to the ladies room, and just as I turned to flush the toilet I looked down and saw…. red. 

Not light pink.

Not pink-ish.  Not a “tinge of red.”

Red.  Just red.

This is really not a fun experience for anyone, and certainly not for a chick who happens to be pregnant.  All kinds of scary, morbid things went through my mind, and of course most of them had something to do with sweet Poppyseed.  So, before giving it too much thought, I called my doctor’s office.  I ended up speaking with his nurse, who told me ‘It doesn’t seem like an emergency, but definitely worth looking into and we should do a urine culture.” 

So, I drove over to their office for my labwork.  The whole time I was driving I was trying not to worry, and I was also wondering if I was being that annoying “first time pregnant girl” who calls her doctor every time something strange happens.  I also thought to myself, “Watch, now I’m going to get over there for a urine sample and it’s going to be clear as glass and everything will come back negative and they’ll think I’m just that annoying drug-rep-turned-patient trying to get attention.” 

I got to the office, checked in, and was sent to the lab, where I was given one of those lovely specimen cups and ushered into a restroom to privately dispense the sample.

Welp, I guess I proved that I wasn’t cray-cray.  Behold, my urine sample. 

That ain’t clear as glass, folks.  That ain’t clear at all.

I took a picture (obviously) because a few months ago Oatmeal casually mentioned to me that he had passed a kidney stone at work.  When my jaw dropped and I asked him if he’d been in pain, he said something like, “Yeah I mean it has sort of hurt to use the restroom lately and it all makes sense now that I know I had a kidney stone.” When I asked him how he knew it was a kidney stone, he looked at me like I could be a moron and responded, “Well, I figured it was a stone when a little stone came out.

So yeah, my husband passes kidney stones without so much as a mention of discomfort, so I wasn’t about to complain to him that I had some bloody pee without having some bloody proof! 

I came out of the restroom with my “specimen.”  The phlebotomist took one look at my pee and said, “Ooooohhhhhhh giiiiiiiirl, what you be taking to make yo pee look like that?“  I told her that I haven’t taken more than a prenatal vitamin in the past 3 months, and she replied, “Woo hoo, that be funky.  Well, here’s your slip, go on and check out now.“  I gave her my “funky” urine and headed to the check-out desk.  While I was checking out, my doctor’s nurse came out and told me she had taken a look at it and was going to call in an antibiotic because it looked like a pretty major bladder infection.  She said they’d get the labs back in 48 hours because it takes that long to get a good culture to grow.  She asked again if I was in any pain, and I reassured her that I wasn’t. 

On my way to the pharmacy, I called Oatmeal to tell him I was on my way to pick up an antibiotic.  We were very wary of me taking it right away, because we didn’t even have a real diagnosis yet.  Just as we decided to wait until we heard from my doctor to take the antibiotic, the phone beeped and it was the nurse again.  She had shown my urine sample to the doctor who owns the practice and he had actually advised me to NOT take a thing other than my prenatal vitamin until they get the labs back.  Oatmeal and I were happy with that, and felt reassured that even in my doctor’s absence, my symptoms were reviewed with another really reliable doctor.  That doctor was evidently really surprised that I wasn’t experiencing really awful pain and cramps.  I was also advised to drink as much water as I could tolerate, and to not be surprised if I began to experience a lot of pain.

So…. I went back to work, but I did end up getting paranoid since I was 90 miles from home and paranoid that I would suddenly hit my knees in pain.  I figured if I had to pee blood every 10 minutes, I’d rather do it at home. So, here I am, chugging water, and trying to get Tough Puppy out of my lap. 

This picture was supposed to be more of Tough Puppy, my computer, and my Christmas tree, and less of Tough Puppy pressing against my mammary glands.  But hey, I’ve already crossed the line of being inappropriate during this particular blog entry, there’s really no turning back now.

So please say a prayer for me and sweet Poppyseed… that I (1) get good news from the lab on Wednesday, (2) stop peeing blood, (3) don’t have to experience this wall of pain I’ve been warned of, and (4) little Poppyseed is happily swallowing and thumb sucking, totally unaware that Mama Lola is a little stressed out.  If you don’t have time for all that praying, saying a prayer just for Poppyseed would be just fine.  Lola doesn’t need it as much.

Will keep ya posted.  Until next time.

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