A Tale of One Kidney Prt 1

My kidney is a mess.


The probe took longer than expected on Friday, because my Urologist was not expecting to find what he found.


A dumb tumor.


It has been a master of disguise, this tumor, strategically hiding out in the fold of my kidney, living quite happily, evading the detection from all the scans of modern technology to determine its existence.  It is a cunning little tumor. 


I should point out that this is something that is very uncommon for someone in my age bracket, (and gender) which would explain the baffled looks I would get in the waiting room from the old men waiting to have their prostates checked out.


(Just for the record, I do not have a prostate.  I don’t know why I feel the need to clarify this, but there it is.)



Due to the shock of this discovery, my Urologist ran over the allotted time for the procedure, so when he came out to explain to my mother his findings, it was rather rushed, as he had to get to his next surgery (which was an hour and a half behind.)


Apparently, when he first went in, he saw something which he just assumed was a pool of collected blood.  He tried to flush it away, and it didn’t move.  That was when he realized he was dealing with a mass of angry cells that should not be there.  He took a biopsy and sent it off to the lab to see what’s up with this tumor.


At this time, I am still waiting for the results, however, I’ve got an inside at the hospital who is on the look out for my results and will notify me as soon as they become available.


(I should point out, that again, due to my age, it’s very unlikely it’s cancer.  Then again, it was unlikely that I would have a tumor in my kidney.)


So anything goes.


He wants to remove my entire left kidney, along with the uterur, thus dashing any dreams I had of cage fighting, performing gymnastics or becoming a stunt rider.  (all of which was pointed by a friend that I couldn’t do in the 1st place, but I swear, it was on my list of things to do. Ok maybe not.)


I will also need to watch myself around baseball bats and piñatas

A cache of smarties and sweet tarts is not worth having my other kidney whacked by a four yr old with a stick.


I should probably also not stand around the back sides of horses or donkey’s or any other large animal that likes to kick.  Not that I normally do, but you never know.




I’m probably getting a head of myself at the moment.  I’m just trying to be proactive in protecting my right kidney.  I’ll probably end up like one of those overbearing protective mom’s who won’t let anyone hold their kidney, because only I know the right way to hold my kidney, and everyone else is wrong in their kidney rearing ways.  Of course replace kidney with baby, and it totally makes sense.

Just don’t touch my right kidney.  Anyone.


Anyways, I go back to see the Urologist on the 2nd of August to discuss everything in detail and will be making the appointment for the removal of the left kidney. 


I’m thinking a party might be in order. . . a sort of send off for my left kidney.


All and all, It will be ok.