It hurt HELLA bad the one time I had a kidney infection. Ugh. I'd say take some scrip painkiller if you have any, but that might mask something the docs need to see.

I've found that shrieking in pain sometimes helps move up wait time. The Stoics were, as a school, kinda full of shit.

that wasn't as funny after I typed it out.

Soon-ma for Kristin and a diagnosis. And treatment would be excellent, too.

Why is it always the car? Every one of those milestone conversations: "Where do babies come from? What makes girls different? Why is there hair?," etc., was held in the car. It's been postulated that the kid has the driver hostage, she can't run away, there's nothing to deflect or distract with, plus the whole impossibility of eye contact. Still. I'd envisioned those rosy, sensitive, carefully-planned conversations taking place in the porch swing, or at the kitchen table. Nope. Always the car.

Oh dear, Kristin. Quick pain relief ~ma. Lots of it.

I bet it's the car because you don't have to make eye contact. It might be easier to ask the hard stuff that way.

Barb, probably because not only are you a captive audience, with no eye contact, but it's fairly private - no friends, siblings, etc., to hear the question. Also, with no TV, etc., there's nothing to distract them from such burning (metaphorically, not literally ... with any luck) questions.

Kristin, do get to urgent care ASAP - pain is nature's way of telling you there's something wrong.

And I'm loving hearing about Casper's fleas ... and the confusion with flea's Casper.

The link to Eben Brooks' LOLcat filk led me to this. For the internets are great.

Kristin, I hope you get some relief VERY VERY SOON.

My theory is that those conversations happen in the car because not only is there no chance of eye contact, there is no chance the parent will be able to hand you a Helpful, Yet Mortifying, Book.

Ugh, I think our cafeteria poisoned me again. I never eat down there because a.) the food sucks and b.) I've gotten food poisoning there once. Today I grabbed a small pudding cup and now am ill. I know that's it because I've eaten nothing else that could cause it.

Nah, I know my rugrats. Little to no shame (Gee, wonder how THAT happened?) @@ It happened in the car as a matter of course because I'd just picked them up from the bus. And the fact that he had this conversation with his sister present, sitting beside him.

When I had the puberty conversation with Abby, we got to the "You know, you're like to start having your period fairly soon, right?"

"Yes, Mom." Eying me gravely, as if not quite certain how much I can handle. "Most likely by the time I'm thirteen, but if I haven't had it by the time I'm sixteen, we'll have to go visit the pediatrician who may then refer me to a different doctor."

This happened in my office, eye to eye, where I had to breathe very, very deeply until she left the room, whereupon I closed the door and buried my head in a throw pillow and absolutely howled.

The teen years, they're gonna be some kind of wild ride, I'm thinking.

Thanks everyone. I'm still waiting. The pain has subsided a bit right now, which is a relief. It seems to come and go. Have I mentioned how much I dislike waiting rooms?