I acquired kidney stones as a kid. Too much milk, I was told.

They began to be a problem in my 20s.

First bout was during my senior honors thesis at UW-Madison. Since I was writing about Solzhenitsyn's concept of "Ascent" and how you achieve spiritual awakening through intense physical suffering, it seemed apropos enough.

Then I was in the clear until my PhD, when the other side struck. At the time, I just assumed: write a big academic publication, pass a stone.

The second time was at Harvard, and I was given the chance to pursue the new technology known as lithotripsy (I was one of the first several thousand) at the hands of one of its great pioneers, the big guy at Mass Gen in Boston. Back then they dipped you in water when doing it (now, it's so simple they do it in a tractor trailer).

That procedure left me with a load of too-small-to-crush fragments in either side. Every so often they give me trouble, usually in the spring.

I have not had any episode requiring drugs for almost 20 years, but Sunday night I was knocked down pretty well and Monday night was as bad as anything I've ever endured.

So, the assumption right now is that I'm moving a lot of material and just have to get it done.

Odd situation, like a woman's labor: you want to trigger it but you don't want to trigger it, meaning you want to get it done but you ain't looking forward to the process.

So a strange routine: up all night in discomfort and pain, then sleep in, then spend day doing all sorts of physical activities to trigger action, then you're worn out, then comes night and the pain returns and you do it all over again.

Had to cancel trip to CA in meantime. 16 hours in planes over two days just a bit too scary, especially the night away. Again, it's like waiting for the labor to kick in: you keep a certain routine but you also stay close to home and keep your bags packed. I am trying to stay out of the hospital (they actually can't do much of anything but shoot you up, which really helps only if you're out of control and I don't expect it to get that bad), but you never know.

If I can't manage this within X days, I will need to probably at least get an X-ray.

Meanwhile, I'm writing in chunks. Weekly column done. Expanded two pieces for the October Esquire that I've been working on. Turning the discarded Fast Company piece into a paper for the Baker Center's new flagship journal. And putting final touches on Vol. III revamped proposal, which I am very excited about and hope Neil Nyren, somewhere in the next 24 hours, will also become very excited about.

So with all this creative birthing going on, I guess the stones are just an added ambience.

An artist's gotta suffer ...