9 years ago, on June 15, I had a surgery to remove a kidney stone that was stuck into my urethra and didn’t let any fluids going out. Its dimension was, ironically enough, of a kidney bean – which seems small, but for an internal tube it sure isn’t. That was the cherry on top of 19 years of kidney pains, other small kidney stones and kidney treatments. Finally, it was over. I could live like the people around me, who didn’t carry extra clothes to protect their kidney zone or who don’t have to go to the bathroom every half an hour. That surgery meant that I didn’t have to cover my lower back on the beach, nor would I ever wake up again in an intense kidney pain. At least I thought so. But what does a green-eyed 19 year old girl know?

11 years ago, I noticed my mood swings, but didn’t do anything about it because “we don’t talk about our problems with strangers” (Eastern Europe people, you feel me?). 11 months ago, I finally put a name on my emotional rollercoasters and started medication. I don’t know if I believe in a God per-se, but clearly someone up (or down?) there really wants to test my strength regularly, because Lithium is processed by the kidneys and it can even cause kidney failure (rare, but if you’re that 1 in 1 million I bet it sucks, right?).

This year, also on June 15, I was back in the hospital for another kidney stone. Of course size matters, yet psychological traumas don’t care about if something is small or big or if that thing is blocking one of your organs or not. PTSD is often associated with wars, but did you notice that anything medical-related is also a war? Fight the disease, win that battle. So yes, all of my traumas flashed in front of my eyes when I entered the hospital campus. Long story short, no kidney failure on the menu for me, not even a surgery. Yay!

I got home almost happy, because this encounter with fifteen hospital staff members was one of the very few that I found flawless in the Dutch healthcare system (which is still a wonderland to me). I wanted to see the results once again and, when looking into my medical file from the hospital, I found out that in November 2020, an echography found then another kidney stone. The doctors didn’t tell me that then - instead, I heard “Everything is fine, Lithium doesn’t have any effect on your kidneys”. So, I’ve lived under the impression that really everything is fine and I’m the one that’s crazy. Yet, how crazy could I have been if the pains were so real?

The gel the urologist used for the ultrasound was cold, yet I was burning inside with fear and frustration because the pressure that the transducer put on me was not only physical, but mental as well. But guess what, I live for challenges and puzzles (and for food, but that’s another story), so I’ll befriend this small kidney stone for a while, learning more about her (e.g. was she born due to Lithium or not? Does she have any more sisters on their way?) and learning more about my body as well. She will leave on her own, sooner or later, with no treatment that might rush her.

This is my last column this academic year (sad face), so do spend the summer as you’d like, take care of yourself and enjoy life! They say we only live once (although I’m not sure), so let’s make the most of it. Cheers!