Onion soup. Half a banana. I’ve always thought that following a detox regime would be beneficial but never had the self-discipline to do so. Until this week.
Towards the end of a photo workshop last week I started feeling a pain in my side. It refused to subside and I thought I might not be able to finish the day. It reached the point where it was impossible for me to speak – which demands some creative thinking when you’re leading a one-to-one workshop.
Anyway, long story short, I finished the workshop and made it home but the pain continued to increase. Now I know how it feels to personify the phrase “doubled-up in pain”.
Fortunately, my Bangkok apartment is only 20 minutes from one of Thailand’s best international hospitals so I was able to crawl into the back of a cab and quickly made it to their Emergency Room. Unfortunately, they could not give me anything to relieve the pain before they’d completed ultrasounds and x-rays and when they did, the first three pain med injections failed to register. It was only when I started clawing chunks out of the headboard that I got something that did the job. It was easily the longest two hours of my life.
The tests revealed two kidney stones, a small one and a large one, the size of a jagged marble, that had decided to take a vacation in the most sensitive part of my inner workings. Since then, four days ago, I’ve been alternating between periods of being spaced out on high-strength pain meds and praying for a swift end to the outrageous pain.
There are various ways to remove kidney stones, one of which is shockwave treatment. It sounded OK to me but it turned out that the Doc had underplayed his description. Essentially, imagine being punched in the kidneys, hard, by someone wearing knuckle-dusters. Then imagine that punch being repeated twice every second for forty-five minutes. Yes, I did exclaim “ouch!”, or something similar, on more than one occasion.
Once x-rays had confirmed that the stones had been broken up into pieces small enough to make their own way out (I’ll spare you the details of that joyous exercise) I was sent home. Unfortunately, the pain soon returned and despite the pain meds, it wasn’t long before I was in the back of another taxi for a second hellish ride across town – this time during Friday night rush hour!
So, now it’s Sunday evening and I’m eating my onion soup and half a banana, the first thing I’ve been able to keep down since Wednesday and still in a hospital bed. The pain is down to manageable now and I’m drinking litre upon litre of water and waiting for the stone fragments to make their much-anticipated appearance.
It’s been quite a ride.
So, I’d love to be able to draw a meaningful photographic metaphor from this experience but that might be a stretch, even for me. So, instead, here’s the message that I hope justifies posting this self-indulgent tale on my blog: none of us knows what’s around the corner. I’d anticipated a quiet night in followed by a couple of days with meetings and two photo shoots. I should be boarding a plane bound for the UK this evening but none of these things will take place as planned. It’s easy to take good health for granted and to assume that we’re invincible. Illnesses happen to other people. Humour me and put those thoughts to one side for a minute or two and ask yourself what would happen if you’re put out of action for a week. Who can you rely on to help you out? Can somebody take over your work? Is there someone you trust to go through your diary and re-schedule your jobs? More importantly, how’s your insurance? Are you covered for all eventualities? Invest a few moments into imagining all sorts of scenarios and write down how you’d manage those unexpected, unplanned situations. Whilst it might not be a pleasant exercise, better to do it when you can think straight.
Preparation is all-important in so many situations but never more so than when you’re planning to cope with the unexpected.
I hope to be back home tomorrow night and can’t wait to start work again. In my rare moments of lucidity these past days, I’ve been reminded of just how much I love my job and how precious it is to be able to do what I love. When that’s taken away from you, albeit very briefly, it’s impossible not to recognise the good fortune that you are used to enjoying.
Go well. Normal service will be resumed shortly.
Get well soon Gavin. All the best.
Look after yourself m8 and since you’re short of metaphors … here’s one for you
Life, is made up of opposites. You know for sure that you can’t take a good photo without first having taken a few bad ones. You know you can’t take a really good photo without taking some that really stink! Life’s the same and all this pain you’re going through? Just think of all the joy you’ll get to experience once the stones have made their way out.
Good times to come m8. Until then, take care, rest, & at least there’s cricket on the world service
Ouch Gavin. The husband and both I feel (and have felt) your pain. Hope you’re back to good health quickly.
Perfect reminder too, about having a contingency plans for these unexpected events. I’m going to work on mine now.
I hope you will be feeling better soon. Best of luck.
Get well soon. I’ll pray for your speedy recovery.
Sorry to hear you’ve been having a rough time Gavin. Here’s to a full and speedy recovery.
I would kick myself if I didn’t take this opportunity to say Get Well, and that, ahem, this too shall pass
Sorry. like I said, just doing some regret-management there.
You and Henri will have stories to tell and notes to compare – he’s had similar experiences.
So sorry to hear this, mate. If I were closer I’d be there to make you tea and make my corny jokes at your expense in person.
Get well!
Double ouch! Sorry to hear this Gavin. Fortunately, it seems that the worst is over. Get well, and back to work, soon.
Gavin, Our prayers are with you. I feel your pain. No, really I have been down that road. Too long of a story for here. Love ya, brother, get to feeling better soon!
Ouch. Man I feel your pain (not literally). There’s a passage in the just published “Bangkok Days” (by a fellow named Laurence Osborne) when he and another patient from Bumrungrad left the hospital one night with their IVs still attached and went on a pub crawl on Soi 5. You up for a pub crawl?
Get well soon.
jack
Crikey, Gavin- what a horrible couple of days. My thoughts are with you….
So sorry to hear this.
Praying that the shockwave treatment did the trick, and the remaining bits are very tiny!
Sorry to hear this Gavin! Get well soon!
Be well my friend. My thoughts and prayers go out to you for a speedy recovery. May the Lord bless you and keep you!
Jeff
Glad to hear you made it through. I would have thought with all the tea you are rumoured to consume stones would not have been one of your worries. Take care.
please, get well soon…
Hoping you get well soon Gavin. My Dad had the stones a few years back and said it was the most painful experience of his life so I can imagine it must be pretty bloody awful. Hoping that you feel better soon.
Big Amigo, so sad to hear of your stone problems, so glad to know that soon you will pee well again!
We all gotta get well for the trip so i know you won’t let us down and i promise to only tell you really good jokes when we meet next. I am back around the 3rd of next month and will contact you on arrival to make sure you are fit and well.
Get well soon buddy……we need you!!
Ciao, Frank
sending all healthy healing wishes
I am just beginning to join your friends in the world imagery blog trail
and look forward to sharing ideas and images
I also shoot frequently in Asia
tribal festivals and shoot rituals all over the world
but for now
just get well quickly
all good wishes terri
Good point about contingency planning, it’s one of those areas that is easy to put off or ignore but oh so essential for business continuity. Get well soon Gavin.
Oh, that sounds horrible, to say the least! I hope I speak for others too when I say no photographic metaphors are necessary here. Just take care of yourself and know that other people are praying for you too.
I hope you are feeling better. Soon the pain will pass and you will be able to focus on what you love.
been there.. not fun.. rest and feel better!
Damn Gavin, that, well.. That sucks. Hope you’re feeling better soon. Take it easy!
hope you are feeling better now
hang tight gavin, what doesn’t kill you….
Hi Gavin Just found you on twitter recently and really sorry to hear about the stones
I’m told its the nearest experience a guy can get to the pain of childbirth – and both are apparently the most painful things in existence! Sounds like gallons of tea are needed to help the pesky stones on their way – I’m sure you’ll have no trouble with that
Hey Chiz, excellent to hear from you. How are things? What are you up to? Yes, I’m clearly going to have to up my tea intake from now on. Thanks for your good wishes.
Hi Gav! hope everything’s well already. Indeed our health should never be compromised.