I had the scare of my life last Saturday morning. I woke up with a very acute pain in my right abdomen. I immediately thought it might be appendicitis. I just rested it out and the pain went away after about three hours. (Yes, that’s why I wasn’t able to go to the Blog Awards night).

Yesterday during dinnertime, the pain came back so I decided to go to the emergency room already. I was able to drive myself to St. Luke’s (though not without the usual impatience associated with being in extreme pain) along with my mom (financier, ehem, ehem) and brother BA (backup driver, in case I wanted to die of a heart attack instead).

Doctors initially thought I had gallstones, and thank God they ruled out appendicitis. But they then concluded from tests that I had kidney stones—either they’ve already passed through, they’re still passing through, or they can’t pass through. The next few days I’ll get some more tests done so we can pinpoint exactly where the little critters are, and how to go about with treatment. As far as I’m concerned getting cut open is a last resort.

So I’m stoned, so to speak. Actually, this is the same condition my wife, Caren, had a couple of years ago. Now I know how bad it feels.

If you’ve been missing me the past few days, you now know why I’ve been away from the action. I’m stoned.

Gas prices too high? Go the extra mile with the green liter.

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