Long and winding road

Things haven't been going so well for the last day or two.  The doctor had given me instructions to remove the catheter in the shower yesterday, something I had done before, so I thought I would get an early start and do it at four in the morning after a last dump of the bilge bag. I cut the secondary tube under the valve but the thing would not release. I held the hydra like monstrosity in my hand with fear and apprehension and yelled for my wife who came up quickly from bed and sleep.  She taped the bag to my chest and I called the emergency room at Fallbrook Hospital.

The bored and nonplussed attendant who answered my call said it sounded like something for my physician to deal with.  I had read about problems when catheters don't deflate and said that I was coming anyway but after hanging up the phone, called and woke my urologist at 4:30a.m.  He wanted to know why I couldn't have waited until 7:30 to remove the contraption, a fair question, and managed to work me through removing it with brute force.  He told me to drink a lot of water and to call him later in the morning.  I then quaffed about 100 ounces of the stuff. Unfortunately, I still couldn't pee, if I was lucky I would get one drop, and my bladder was in total agony.  Sitting caused sharp pains in my lower abdomen. (I have been mostly laying down the last two weeks.) 

I went to my coffee klatch to say hi to my buds for the first time in a month but felt like a crypt keeper.  I called the doctor's office around 9:00 and she told me to drive in immediately.  I decided not to bother Leslie, who has been so great and willing to do everything for me as usual, and drive myself.  Mistake.  The pain was building up so much that I was in total panic and agony. Needed to pee, couldn't pee.  Thought about just driving the car off a bridge.  

When I got to the doc, I was whisked to a room and he came over to see me.  He was surprised that I came by myself and couldn't give me a sedative this time since I had no one to drive me.  Called several friends, no one answered but Richard and he was working. (But he did offer.) So I got a nova type gel and he drained me and re catheterized me. He cultured the urine and said there was no infection, so the prostate is just totally inflamed and irritated.  I didn't ask him but my guess is that the catheter wouldn't come out because the passage has been totally occluded. He corroborated that I am in the middle of a vicious circle, the prostate is reacting negatively to a foreign body, the catheter, and yet the attendant reaction requires a catheter. He gave me some flowmax to start taking monday in hopes of opening up the main port.  Got the always pleasant prostate handshake which he says thankfully is not terribly enlarged.  He says my system has taken a big hit and I need to chill. 

Last night's fitful rest turned into a waking nightmare as I woke to find that I had somehow unscrewed the catheter in my sleep and was now sitting in a pool of yellow.  Old tricks die hard.

So another penniless day away from the shop today, I will sit around and watch movies.  I am in the middle of a stunning Japanese classic Ugetsu by Kenji Mizoguchi which won a major award in Venice in 1953.  I love Japanese movies, Ran, Yojimbo, etc. and this is one of the best.  

Dave sent the pic of the upper scar on my fat stomach, my hand covers the large bruise at the top.  I have to show everybody.  Many have huge aspirations in this life.  At this point I just want a normal pee stream.  My doctor, whom I genuinely love, says that one day this will all be a bad dream.