Or so sayeth the CT scan.
We arrived at ten to ten, and spent the next hour and a half or so moving from one waiting room to another to another line. I confirmed that I didn't need to drink anything, which was wise, as the woman giving me instructions thought she needed dye for contrast, which is, I think, the opposite of what one does to find a kidney stone.
This put us upstairs around noon. First, the urologist was in the OR. He returned quickly, but Radiology was at lunch or a conference, and thus there were no results until after 2 pm. During this time, I dozed, dreaming that the results arrived, but the doctor was in surgery. Then, I dreamed knowing that had been a dream, but the doctor's staff was at lunch and couldn't answer questions about when results would be available.
Then, the Radiology doctor was available to give results verbally, even though they weren't in the system -- but only to the Urology doctor, who was now back in the OR. And I had not eaten or drunk anything since midnight yesterday.
We started watching the final first season episode of Heroes, which resulted in the doctor arriving and getting results. He says it's all clear, and I saw the post-it note on my folder informing him of same. I asked for diet advice on lowering the chances of getting another kidney stone, and we made a follow up appointment for three months down the line.
I'm not sorry to avoid anaesthesia, although in some ways, I'd feel more secure if they'd spotted and crushed or preferably removed and displayed a stone. Still, apart from lingering aches, mostly where the ultrasound prodded, I feel okay.
We are now trying to untangle an annoying FedEx mess. I do not think I will voluntarily use them again, but right now, I want my package.