Passing a Kidney Stone at 28: My Six-Month Battle

At 28, I thought kidney stones were something only older people dealt with. Then one small 6mm stone turned my life upside down for half a year. From midnight panic drives to the ER to finally passing the stone six months later, this is the most painful and surreal health battle I’ve ever faced.

🚨 The Night It All Began

It was July when the pain first struck. I had just climbed into bed when a stabbing ache began on my right side and lower back. At first, I told myself it might just be indigestion or a pulled muscle. I tried shifting positions, sat on the toilet, even bent over the sink trying to throw up—nothing helped.

Within minutes, the pain grew unbearable. My stomach twisted, sweat poured down my face, and I could barely breathe without feeling like knives were stabbing me. I realized this wasn’t something I could sleep off.

That’s when the panic set in. I lived alone with my puppy, and the thought of being gone all night made me feel guilty. I rushed to put food and water in her crate, whispering an apology as she tilted her head at me. Then I stumbled out the door, clutching my side, determined to drive myself to the nearest ER.

It was the middle of the night, and the streets were empty. Every red light felt like the universe was mocking me. I hunched over the wheel, one hand gripping my side, the other white-knuckling the steering wheel. Somehow, by sheer willpower, I made it.

🏥 My First ER Experience

The ER I found was small and family-run. I must have looked half-crazed walking in. The receptionist handed me forms while I was doubled over, scribbling something that barely resembled my name.

Soon, I was in a bed with an IV hooked up. But the first round of pain meds did nothing. My body shook violently as nurses whispered to each other, debating what to try next. They wheeled me off for a CAT scan, every bump in the hallway making me want to scream.

The doctor came in calmly with the results: a 6mm kidney stone. “Six millimeters doesn’t sound big,” he said, “but that’s the size where we usually start talking about procedures.”

They gave me morphine. I will never forget that moment—the violent shaking stopped, the stabbing pain melted into warmth, and I finally exhaled after hours of panic. It was the first time in my life I truly understood what relief feels like.

After bloodwork and urinalysis, they sent me home at dawn with a plastic bag of prescriptions and advice: drink water, rest, and try to pass the stone.

💊 Weeks of Uncertainty

The next few weeks felt like a strange waiting game. I chugged water like it was my full-time job, carried pain meds in my pocket, and lived with a heating pad strapped to my side. Some days I felt almost normal, which tricked me into thinking I had passed it without noticing.

At the same time, I was preparing for a cross-country move. Between packing boxes and saying goodbyes, I convinced myself the stone was gone. Maybe denial was easier than imagining another midnight trip to the ER.

🔁 Six Months Later: Déjà Vu

Fast forward six months. I noticed blood in my urine and a faint tingling on my right side. A clinic brushed it off as a UTI and handed me antibiotics. I wanted to believe them.

Two days later, the nightmare returned. I was home for the holidays, and my mom rushed me to the same hospital where I was born. Everything replayed—the IV, the meds, the scan.

This time the doctor’s words hit harder:

“The same stone has been moving through your ureter for six months. It’s now blocking you 99% of the way.”

He tried to page a urologist for an emergency lithotripsy, but no one was available. I felt helpless, lying there with déjà vu, wondering if this would ever end.

🌿 The Last Attempt

Back at home, I went into survival mode. I drank absurd amounts of water, carried a bottle everywhere I went, and started an herbal supplement called “stone breaker” I found online.

Every morning I braced myself for disappointment. Then, one quiet morning after waking up, it finally happened. I passed the stone. After half a year of pain, hospital visits, and constant fear—it was over.

I sat on the edge of my bed, stunned. Relieved. Almost laughing at how something so small could cause so much suffering.

💭 Lessons From the Stone

Looking back, the stone taught me more than just medical facts:

• Pain can humble you. I finally understood why people compare kidney stones to childbirth.
• Resilience hides in crisis. Driving myself alone to the ER that first night showed me strength I didn’t know I had.
• Support is priceless. My mom being there the second time made the fear easier to carry.
• Health is fragile. Even at 28, one tiny stone can bring your world to a stop.
• Don’t ignore symptoms. Blood in urine, side pain, even mild discomfort—don’t shrug it off.

🌼 Final Reflections

I hope I never face another stone again, but if I do, at least I know I can survive it. This wasn’t just about passing a stone—it was about discovering resilience, patience, and how much small acts of care (like my mom’s presence or a nurse’s reassurance) can mean when you’re vulnerable.

If you’re reading this while dealing with kidney stones, I won’t sugarcoat it: it’s awful. But it does end. There is relief. And when it’s over, you’ll come out with a story of strength you never thought you’d have.

For me, that little stone will always be a reminder of pain, yes—but also of endurance, family, and the fragile gift of health.