by NATH VALVO
Earlier this year I became a man, a real man.
And no, this is not an excerpt from Chaz Bono’s memoirs.
Drum roll please …
This year, I passed TWO kidney stones. AT. THE. SAME. TIME.
(Insert raucous applause)
Before this happened, it is safe to say that I was a pussy.
A massive pussy.
I cried in grade 4 watching Free Willy. I straighten my hair everyday. And I’m partial to using an exfoliating glove in the shower (does wanting immaculate skin make a man a pussy? Yeah, probably).
But I digress…
I was walking through my local supermarket when I was struck by an excruciating pain in my lower back. Considering I haven’t done exercise since that time in 2005 when I had to run for a train, I was confused as to what the cause of this pain could be. I knew it was serious.
I had to bail on my supermarket visit (I couldn’t afford the box of fruit loops anyway). A few minutes later, I arrived back home and called my nurse friend, Fiona, for advice. Once she had completed her initial assessment and was satisfied that it was not a drunk sex injury, she agreed to come over and drive me to a doctor.
But while waiting for her to arrive, the second attack hit. The final attack.
My entire body began to spasm, my insides felt like they were crumping to a Beyonce song. I found myself on the couch in the fetal position, shaking, vomiting (much like I did that time I watched The Shire)… then… I passed out.
A minute or so later, I came to – just as Fiona arrived. Having not seen me in such a state since 2003 (my Emo phase, don’t go there), she was understandably freaked out and quickly dialed an ambulance.
Waiting for the ambulance to arrive was when the real fun started.
As my lower organs continued to break-dance inside my body, I began to feel an amazingly intense pressure on my bladder. So intense, that it became very clear, very quickly that I was going to start urinating … whether I liked it or not (now I know why my mother of four children refuses to jump on trampolines).
Still in the fetal position on the couch I reluctantly screamed to Fiona: “I’m going to piss my pants! I’m going to piss my pants!” Fiona, without a second thought, slid over a salad bowl (with salad still in it).
Never in my life have I ever thought I would have to make the decision: “Piss your pants or piss in to a salad bowl.”