I was recently in the hospital with my first kidney stone (not recommended). I left the experience knowing two new things about myself. One, I can survive the most intense pain the male body can dish out. And two, no matter how bad it gets, I still keep a sense of humor.
After eight hours of agony, the nurse decided to “get on top of this pain” by giving me a bunch of morphine. My wife Kate was standing next to me as he put a port into my right hand, loaded the ampule, and pressed it into my vein. After he was done, I just laid there for a moment.
“You okay, sweetheart?” Kate asked.
I motioned that she should lean down. Closer, closer.
“Yes, Mike? What is it?”
“Kate,” I whispered, “there are seven levels.”