Kathy stared at him. “You haven’t seen her in a long time.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Because it’s true.”

“Hey, I was waiting until your pain decreased to suggest this. Have you ever heard of something called a gallbladder flush?”

“No. Tell me about it.”

“It’s used to flush a huge amount of bile through your gallbladder and the duct so that if there are stones in the way, they’re pushed into the colon. The way it works, you drink an entire cup of olive oil along with a cup of freshly squeezed lemon juice.”

“Yuck!”

“The olive oil causes your liver to produce a ton of bile. Oil is fat—the body digests fat with bile. The lemon juice causes the gallbladder to contract and squeeze out whatever stones are there. Basically what you’re doing is putting a rushing river behind the stuck stone. Now that will increase the pressure in the area, but that should only be for a short time. The stone should be shoved out of the way. But there are risks. If the stone is so big it can’t be pushed out of the way, the pressure will intensify. Also, there’s always the slight chance that the stone will get stuck in your pancreas on the way to your intestines. Then you can get pancreatitis. That’s when the pancreas starts to digest itself. If that happens you have to get to the hospital or you’ll die.” He added, “But the chances of that happening are less than one in a thousand.”

She stared at him stupidly. “Are you a doctor or what?”

“I told you, I’ve been through it with my mom. She used to do flushes. Most of the time they go well. Even a big, hard stone can be pushed out safely. But you have to understand there is a slight risk.”

She considered. “I have trouble digesting fat these days. When I was injured, my liver was damaged.”

“You know your body better than me.” .

“How many times did your mother flush out stones?”

“Six times that I know of.”

“And it worked all six times?”

“Yes. You have to drink the oil and lemon juice and lie on your right side and try to fall asleep. If all goes well, the pain will stop after a few hours, and then you’ll have to rush to the bathroom with the worst case of diarrhea imaginable. You might even find the stones in the toilet bowl.”

“Sounds romantic. I have no olive oil or lemons.”

“I can get the stuff for you at the store down the street.”

She grabbed his hand. “I don’t want you to leave.”

He patted her arm. “I’ll be back in twenty minutes. You’re still in pain but we have it under control. But it’s up to you. What do you want to do?”