i am a stone farmer

At least that's what the doctor said.  Apparently a lot of us are just stone farmers.  And there is nothing we can do about it.  Except maybe join our local farm bureau.  

In case the blogger world is wondering "Whatever happened to that stone?" I thought I'd provide a little update. A final, Lord willing, update.

I went to the urologist yesterday.  I would have gone sooner but it appears that it is just as hard to get an appointment with a urologist as it is the Pope.  With the baby boomers growing older I have a feeling getting a timely appointment is only going to get harder.  I felt a little out of my element as everyone else who was there for a appointment had their visit covered by Medicare and were collecting social security and I am not talking about the disability or supplemental income kind.  There was, however, an 11 year old coming in after me, so that made me feel a little bit better.  While I'm on the young end, there are stone farmers younger than me.

I was also given a prescription note with three things to help prevent stones:
1.  Increase my urine output to 2.5 liters a day (that is A L O T of urine).
2.  Decrease salt and red meat intake (that won't be hard for me, but Big Red* may have some problems with the first part if she ever becomes a stone farmer).
3. Combine 4 somethings (maybe tablespoons?) of lemon juice and 2 quarts of water and drink daily. This is "Good to Citrate". (Can sweeten with whatever I want if I don't like the taste of lemon.)

I am almost positive I will not be drinking 2 quarts of a lemon/water mixture every day for the rest of my life.  All because a grape-nut caused me the most intense pain I have ever felt in my entire life.

And that's really about it.  My stone has been sent off to the stone lab for analysis.  My urine was "crystal clear" (too much info?) and it appears there isn't anything else I can do to stop one from happening again (aside from drinking and peeing a lot).

*I'd link to Big Red's blog but she doesn't have one (even though she really really should).  Tisk. Tisk. Tisk.