Why I Built OxalateGuard

The first time, I didn't know what was happening.

One moment I was fine. The next, I was on the floor, vomiting from pain I didn't know existed. The kind of pain that makes you bargain with the universe. The kind where you can't think, can't speak, can't do anything but survive the next second.

The ER finally gave me answers: a kidney stone lodged in my left kidney. Surgery that same night.

The operation itself was easy — I was out for it. But the next two weeks? Nobody prepares you for that part.

The stent. The string. The constant feeling like you need to pee, even when you don't. The fear of what's coming. I Googled everything. Talked to friends who'd been through it. Read horror stories I probably shouldn't have. I was terrified.

Two weeks later, it was time for removal.

They don't put you under for this. You just... lie there, in a cold room, feeling very small. A young nurse grabbed the string and pulled like she was starting a lawnmower. It felt like a porcupine being ripped through my insides in slow motion. I was certain I'd see blood and guts everywhere.

There wasn't much blood. But the pain — I'll never forget it.

They said most people want to pee afterward. I just wanted to cry.

When I finally tried, it felt like urinating acid. What should've taken seconds took minutes of agony, each attempt worse than the last.

I made it to the car and broke down. All the fear I'd been holding for two weeks came flooding out. I sobbed in the parking lot like I never have before.

The Mission That Failed

After that, I was determined. Never again.

I researched everything. Oxalates, hydration, dietary changes. I even paid for a dietitian to help me.

She had to Google “oxalates.” That's when I knew I was on my own.

I found Jill Harris's YouTube videos and joined her mailing list. But there was no simple tool, no app, nothing that just told me what to eat and what to avoid. So I found a massive list of oxalate content in foods and did the only thing that felt safe:

I ate chicken, rice, and lettuce. That's it. For months.

I knew it wasn't healthy. But I was scared.

To make up for the missing nutrition, I started taking supplements. Vitamins. “Healthy” stuff.

What I didn't know — what nobody told me — is that many supplements are loaded with oxalates. The very thing I was trying to avoid, I was swallowing in pill form every morning.

I was unknowingly building my next stone.

The Second Time

A year and a half later, I felt it. That familiar, unmistakable sensation.

I cried before the pain even started. I knew what was coming.

Another surgery. Another stent. Another two weeks of dread.

This time, I begged to be put under for the removal. Insurance said no. The best they could offer was nitrous oxide.

I took it. I prayed it would be enough.

It wasn't.

Even out of my mind on gas, they needed five nurses to hold me down. I was kicking. Screaming. Breathing through the tube so hard it whistled. That sound — I still hear it sometimes.

The PTSD followed me home.

I couldn't shower normally. Anything that touched me triggered ghost pains. The brush of fabric against my skin sent me spiraling. I cried in the shower more times than I can count.

I never told anyone.

I just... slowly got through it. Day by day. Until I could function again.

That was two years ago.

The Wake-Up Call

This past Sunday, I passed a small stone.

No surgery this time — just a painful reminder that I had gotten lazy. I wasn't drinking enough water. I wasn't paying attention to what I was eating.

Worse: I'd been actively adding turmeric and cumin to my food for the “health benefits.” Turns out both are loaded with oxalates.

I had been feeding the next stone without knowing it.

That was the moment everything clicked.

I grabbed my phone and texted a group of friends:

“F*** it. I'm going to build an oxalate tracker app for people like us... to help us avoid the foods that affect us — based on age, sex, history, everything.”

I still have the screenshot.

Why This App Exists

OxalateGuard isn't a side project. It's not a business idea I workshopped. It's the tool I desperately needed and couldn't find.

It's hydration tracking. Food logging. Oxalate awareness. Personalized to you — your body, your history, your risk factors.

It's the thing that might have saved me from stone number two. And it's what I hope will help people like us live normal lives — without the fear, without the obsessive Googling, without the suffering in silence.

I understand this struggle way more than I ever wanted to.

If this app helps even one person avoid what I went through, it will have been worth every hour I've put into it.