Too much of a good thing

What's in my cup: Water

I'm sure that this was bound to happen eventually, given my predisposition towards indulgence, but kidney stones are never really welcome. I was hoping to have a normal, easy going week. Instead I have grains of crystalline ouch stabbing my insides and distracting me each and every waking moment. It adds up to a lot of waking moments, seeing as the pain was initially enough to keep me from sleeping well.

I am sure many of you are incredulous, wondering how someone who consumes as many antioxidants as I do get sick... Right?

Or maybe you can see the answer.

The thing is... I might have a problem. I drink a lot of tea.

A lot.

And there happens to be a good amount of tannin in the leaves I enjoy the most. After a while it kind of adds up. If you couple that with the fact that my palate isn't too fond of the water here since I moved in August, it does not make for a good combination. I always used to drink a lot of water. Now, whenever I get thirsty, I have put myself into the habit of reaching for kettle. As busy as work has been I haven't even been keeping hydrated there, either.

Let's be honest; I have a tendency towards indulgence. I have replaced wine with tea. I have replaced sweets with tea. I replaced playing the horn with tea, so as not to upset my neighbors. I have even replaced men with tea. Well, I tried to, at any rate.

Just when I began to stress myself out about life, it was as if everything crystallized into one painful process this past Monday. My ability to filter out the destructive thoughts failed just as badly as my kidneys at handling the saturation of calcium oxalate. Eventually, it precipitated into the shards of jagged and insoluble irritants that sluggishly thorned their way through my system. I spent each moment sitting in pain until it passed. Each and every breath pulled my diaphragm downward against the offending kidney, sending rivulets of pain shooting though my side. Every step was comically agonizing. I was forced to take time to rest and laugh at the irony of the situation, even if every chuckle drove daggers into my side.

Thankfully, that necessity for restfulness was met with support from my boss and my loved ones. I hate sitting around and doing nothing all day. I always have a million and three projects going at the same time so I can flit from one to the next without boredom setting in. Monday's highlight was napping. Tuesday and Wednesday I wrote and spent a fair amount of time on the phone. All the while, I couldn't do much to satisfy my craving for tea. I drank some peppermint, and some weakly re-steeped leaves leftover from my room mate's mug, too, but it is never the same as going through the ritual of making tea for myself. Instead I did my best to feel sated on water alone.

My system cleared itself sometime yesterday. I am continuing to flood my body with a deluge of fresh water to instill the habit. The best part of it all, aside from no longer being subjected to excruciating pain worse than a monotone professor on a day when you really need a nap, is the sense of relief accompanied by a greater awareness of what is happening in the here and now. When every deep breath is linked to a spasm of pain, you really start to pay attention to things outside of yourself that are happening in the now. Learning to write through that was a great experience.

I think I have learned my lesson in moderation. My father, who has had the same problem several times over, proposed that I add a few other indulgences back to my life. A little does go a long way. The new goal is cut my tea drinking back by fifty percent. That will help me appreciate the tea that I do drink even more. I won't just be waiting for my fix anymore. I've also already promised myself that it's time to invest in a water filter. I am pretending that it's just for encouraging me to drink more water, but I'm sure you've already realized that I'm excited at how much better my tea will taste, too. The effects of this lesson arc across my entire life; I will be so much better for it. Not only will my kidneys thank me, but I will break my dependence on an outside source for happiness.

True contentment comes from within, and Camellia sinensis, as one of my spiritual teachers, would want me cultivate that on my own.