I started passing sharp-edged boulders out of my dick the morning after my arrival in Cuba last year. It was like pissing red-hot razorblades through myriatic acid. Lots of blood and 1 to 2mm rocks. No exaggeration. I get this every few years, but nothing like this episode.
Finally, there was this huge mutha that wouldn’t pass and my urethra was blocked. No matter what I did, nothing would pass. I had been drinking water all morning to help get the stones out, but now that strategy worked against me. Within an hour I was up to my nephrons in searing pain. Bursting bladder I felt like a horse was kicking me in the kidneys. Like someone had rammed a white-poker up my urethra. I couldn’t walk. I was doubled over. A cabby and my first mate had to carry me into the hospital ER. Out of the blue, my left nut swelled up the size of a mango and the horses were now working on that. This was morphine-level pain and they loaded me up immediately while they prepped me for the procedure.
Everything was fine when I woke up and I spent a delightful 2 weeks recuperating in a very nice, old Spanish colonial mansion, a B&B from the pre-Castro era being visited regularly by two of the best nurses I’ve ever met. The family who ran the place were incredibly nice and the mamacita and abuela prepared the best homestyle Cuban food I’ve ever tasted. Heaven. It worked out alright.
That was real pain.