Waking up next to naked in a sterile room with a guy that you recognize as the county coroner, and he has his hands on your balls. Just what is the proper etiquette for this one, Miss Manners?
It's a small town. The county coroner also pulls a regular shift at the hospital emergency room. (At least he's not the town mortician, now that would REALLY be a conflict of interest.)
Turns out that I have kidney stones. That, as of this typing, I haven't passed yet.
24 hours or so ago I thought I was going to die. An hour or so after that I was afraid I was never going to die.
Now, every woman I've come into contact with has said the same thing: "They say that passing a kidney stone is as close as a man can come to experiencing the pain of childbirth." Up until now I was convinced that women were the smarter side of the species. Now I'm thinking that may well be a load of crap.
There's not a guy on the planet that would intentionally go through this pain , ever. Any woman willing to go through this kind of excruciating pain a second time (third, fourth!!!) is far too insane to be allowed to breed.
While I'm waiting for this miniscule (millimeters in size, I'm told) "stone" to pass, they have me on some of the most wonderful drugs. I'm thinking that, if I can continue to tell them that I haven't passed the stone yet, I can keep myself in la-la land until after the next election. (George who???)