The Public Stoning of Jim Hastings

Let me tell you a few things about Kidney Stones.

Number 1: THEY F'ING HURT!
Number 2: They can take a month to actually pass.
Number 3:They'll get you fingered.

In fact, the FIRST time I had stones, I didn't even know it. I woke up one morning and was pissing blood. BLOOD. I was freaked to say the least. There was no pain. No discomfort. But there was blood. So I immediately went to the hospital. This is how that visit went...

Click the pic for a larger view.


Okay, it didn't go EXACTLY like that. The E.R. doc, who looked nothing like Maura Tierney, by the way, approached me very business-like, asked me a few questions and then told me to take down my pants, lie on the table, face the wall and pull my knees to my chest. The sweat immediately came pouring from my pores, and I gurgled out the question, "You ... You're going in?!?"

As he snapped on a pair of sallow-looking rubber gloves and grabbed an industrial-sized jar of Vaseline from the counter, he responded in his thick, stilted, Indian accent, "Yes. I am going in."

And he did.

After an exorbitant amount of time IN MY ASS—testing the incredibly popular knuckle-thickness to anal-cavity ratio first introduced by Einstein's proctologist, Dr. Gordon L. Knucklebaum—he spoke. "Do you feel any discomfort?"

"Other than your digit in my widget?" I said in not so many words, "No."

"Good," he said while removing his finger. SPLOOK. "You can pull your pants back up."

Thankful he didn't go back in for his watch, which I'm sure he left behind, I did as he said, then sat humiliated with a giant glop of cold pertroleum jelly nestled like a newborn in my rectum.

Two weeks later, the pain kicked in....