Yes, I am back.
We had a great vacation. We went to Orlando and Daytona Beach, and did everything good tourists do.
We swam, went to the touristy attractions and restaurants, and had a fine old time doing it.
The drive wasn't bad--1,200 miles one way and I could have gone more--and I was full of vim and vigor the entire trip.
Then we got home.
On Monday night, I had terrible pains in my right side, and I was throwing up to beat the band. I was really sick to my stomach, and I was rushed to the emergency room of a local hospital ...
Where I was found to have kidney stones, or more precisely, a stone that is so small that it barely turned up on the MRI I had while there.
The doctor prescribed various medicines to me, and sent me home, saying that I would be able to pass the stone because it is so small.
Well, I am still waiting for that stone to pass ...
And I am in a bit of discomfort. Not pain, but discomfort.
Yeah, I am sure I don't have to describe where it will eventually make its exit.
I have to go to the urologist today, and hopefully, this thing will be over with soon.
What a way to end a vacation! I really know how to do it, don't I?
Now, I have to keep on telling myself the following, which should look pretty familiar to you:
"We had a great vacation. We went to Orlando and Daytona Beach, and did everything good tourists do.
We swam, went to the touristy attractions and restaurants, and had a fine old time doing it.
The drive wasn't bad--1,200 miles one way and I could have gone more--and I was full of vim and vigor the entire trip."
That trip seems so long ago now ...
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