Here at Belle Reve, The Great Kidney Stone Battle Royale of 2012 rages on.  Listen: I know that last week, I offered a visual representation of what kidney stones feel like.  I’m telling you now that I was wrong.  Towards the end of this week, I realized just how wrong I was.  I started to realize that kidney stones feel more like this:

A visual representation of what I started to think kidney stones were like.

However, I was wrong.  Very wrong.  Yesterday, I met one of my kidney stones face to face, and without painkillers.  That’s when I realized kidney stones are more like this:

Yup. That’s about it.

Guys, this summer?  This summer has been — well, a LOT.  Without a doubt, it’s been an unmitigated disaster, especially in terms of my health.  This is normally the time I’d begin with the moaning and the groaning.  It’s probably also the time I’d pull out the yoga pants, close the blinds, pull out a carton of Ben and Jerry’s, pop in my DVD of Grey Gardens, and start feeling seriously sorry for myself.  This time, I’m not going to do that (well, okay, I can’t make any promises about the Ben and Jerry’s.  Or the yoga pants).

I’m not going to do that because this is what I’ve really realized more than anything through all of this: I’m lucky.  I’m very, very lucky, and I’m very grateful.  I have two tremendously strong and wonderful parents who’ve been right behind me, holding me up — sometimes literally — every single step of the way.  I have smart and funny and lovely friends who are more understanding than I deserve, and supportive and helpful and willing to stick with me even when I’m super lame and have to stay home to, you know, give birth to rocks and all.  And I have my work.  There’s this strange stillness that comes with extreme physical pain, this meditative peace I can come to when I’m fighting pain, that I can’t quite explain.  I guess Dickinson says it best: “After great pain, a formal feeling comes.”  I’m able to distract my mind while my body fights, and therefore I’m able to keep fighting, by solving the puzzles of poems in my mind.

Oh, and cat photos. I have a lot of cat photos.

So why should I moan and groan?  I have more than enough to see me through.  And I still had an incredible week, despite the vicious pack of laser-shooting Rambo velociraptors.

Day 212: Monday? Monday was an awesome day. I flew into Birmingham to surprise my dad for his birthday. A NOTE: neither of my parents are particularly good at keeping secrets. I tried to surprise my mother for her birthday last year, and my dad told her within six hours of finding out. My mom is much, much worse — she gets totally excited and tells everything from birthday presents to Christmas presents. This time, though, we managed it, and I’ll always be grateful for the happiness in my dad’s face.

Day 213: Birthday celebration! My mom made gluten-free cupcakes too, and I’m not sure how she did it, but she made them taste like, well, cupcakes. Instead of dust.

Day 214: It’s the little things that are important sometimes. Though this isn’t really a little thing for me: I used to mark major changes in my life by doing ridiculous things to my hair. Then I realized that that just made my hair look ridiculous. Now, I change perfumes — and this? This perfume? Smells like heaven.

Day 215: This beautiful little girl was at my gate, watching the planes take off. The most beautiful thing was her complete awe at everything. And her tiger toys.

Day 216: As good as it was to visit my parents, it was also good to be home at Belle Reve, with Gertrude Stein being sweet. Which is what she’s doing here. No, really. This is Gertrude when she’s sweet.

Day 217: I haven’t drawn with pencil only in years — probably ten years, actually — because, well, I’m not particularly good at it. At all. Then I realized that a.) I enjoy it and b.) I’m in my thirties and I don’t really care any more. I got out my old pencils and found out I still enjoy it.

Day 218: Lemons. Lemons, lemons, lemons. Let’s hope these send my stones on their way.