[Jack Moroney (RIP)]

Yep, a couple of years back. Felt like I was trying to pass a porcupine in breach birth position. They did the stent thing, gave me so damn much morphine that my wife couldn't recognize me-handsome devil that I am anyway- and then didn't bother to strain the urine they collected so that they could determine the cause of the stones. Don't be suprised when the pull the stent and set you free. You are going to pass clots the size of black olives. Think the worst thing about the whole ordeal was for my wife. After they sent me back to my room and I started coming out of the anesthesia they gave me some orange colored jello to eat. Now my wife was standing between me and the white closet doors. I suddenly sat up and blew lunch which of course hit her head on. Made a perfect outline of her in orange jello remnants on the white doors. Good luck, I'll be thinking about you.

Jack Moroney-remembering watching this urologist ramming that damn stent up my hooter like he was cleaning a rifle waiting patiently for it to pass out of either my left or right nostril.