Life's Too Short

I was peeing blood one cold day in February 2001, and so went quickly to the doctor, who simply scheduled an ultrasound test on my bladder the next day.  When done, the technologist said she had located a tumor, and I’d need further testing at the hospital.  Oddly, I showed up a day early (much to my surprise, after it was all over) and the first little bit was fine: the staccato explanation by a stone-faced elderly nurse, including a tour of the changeroom, as well as instructions as to how to dress for the procedure, which "once we're underway will only take a few minutes."  

Then after a brief wait, while sitting there in my Docs and a gown and after watching people calmly go in and out, I am taken into the room by a young female Chinese nurse.  It's a typical old-school mini operating room - even the bed is 3/4 size - and pretty dark except for the lights, and it’s cold.  She tells me to get up onto the bed and put my feet onto the adjoining ledge - I suppose similar to what girls go thru when examined, but without the stirrups.  While she hovers, and when I'm comfortably lying back, she says "I'm going to look at your penis ... and now I'm going to clean your penis for the doctor" and she walks over to the counter to get the goods.  "This might be cold on your penis."  It was.  But she also cleaned the whole package, then said, "now I'm going to inject a topical anestetic into your penis" and walks over to the counter.  I think she liked the word penis.  

Anyway, I've prepared myself mentally but am definitely sweating, so when she came back she has a syringe without a metal needle though.  Inside, I smiled.  "This won't hurt," she assures and then grabs hold with one hand and injects with the other.  This stuff's cold too and dribbles down onto the bed, after rolling down my balls, of course, and then she leaves.  About 1/2 hour later a male nurse (a very nice young man with a ponytail and lisp) walks in and says "The doctor will be seeing you in a minute.... You look fine, just fine," and leaves.

A short while later the doctor comes in with the male nurse and says "So we're here to have a look at your bladder ... well, let's not waste any time."  The nurse, who is standing at one side facing the doctor, asks if I can see the adjacent TV screen.  I nod.  While he's distracting me, the doctor is wheeling over the real goods.  Within a few seconds he has inserted the scope and I'm looking at the screen while writhing, just a little.  But then comes the dreaded "Hmmmm, I wasn't expecting this" and he removes the scope, which felt quite weird, and grabs a wire with a small metal knob on the end - and in it goes, joined shortly thereafter by the scope as well.  

Apparently, the hole that leads to the tube and then up to my bladder is constricted, caused by a "Stricture".  Nevertheless, he attempts to push the wire through and then calls for another nurse and "the light" before removing the wire and scope.  When he pulls out the scope, blood flies out like a fountain.  I almost passed out.  I should've.  Attached to "the light" is a flushing tube, so in it goes, while he's telling the male nurse to make sure he holds the penis "hard", as in firmly, and the other nurse to get him some other equipment "quickly".  "We're going to have to remove the stricture ... with your permission," he calmly says to me.  And before I know it, another tube is quickly but certainly not painlessly inserted, and along with what can only be referred to, non-medically, as clippers - ever see Dead Ringers?  

He moves this like it was a stick shift.  I'm squirming like a toad, to quote Jim Morrison, and then there's an intense painful stab feeling and he then superquickly removes those tools and re-inserts the original scope.  We then, unbelievably, have a look at the bladder.  He's quite calm.  I am not.  Fuck it hurt.  He takes a good look around the bladder walls and points out to me that there's nothing wrong, and "on a bright note," he adds "after removing the Stricture we found, you'll feel like a new man in a few days."  I mumbled something like "thanks doc".  

We're not done though.  He instructs the other nurse to bring a catheter and inserts it.  Then he instructs Wayne to clean me up.  While Wayne is delightfully (I'm sure) scrubbing away, the doctor hands me a prescription for antibiotics ("you'll be bleeding for a few days.") and tells me to come back in a month for a "follow-up" with him, but to come back on Monday 7am to have the catheter removed.  Gee, I can hardly wait for March 23.  What was supposed to have taken a few minutes actually took 45 minutes....
It was a very uncomfortable weekend.  

But off I went, bright and early on Monday morning, to get my catheter removed.  After a few friendly "hellos" to my newfound friends in the Urology department, I'm told a nurse will be with me shortly and I'll be at work before 9 – but I’m 40 and recently laid off, so there was no rush.  This time there were no explanations, no tours and no gowns.  Obviously this was going to be a breeze - especially since the bleeding had stopped.  I kept telling myself it'll be like pulling the dipstick out to check the oil: smooth as silk.  My name gets called out and into a closeby examination room I go.

I get a new nurse, an elderly yet nice and efficient woman.  "Okay, stand there and drop your pants, I'll have that catheter out in a few seconds.”  So I'm standing there, with my pants and shorts wrapped around my ankles, while she brings over some equipment: a needle, without the metal part again.  But this time it's empty.  It gets inserted into the catheter and she "withdraws" the urine from my bladder.  "Good," she says, "nice and clear... now take a deep breath...".  Well, what a feeling, and it did take a few seconds. But now there's blood flyin’ everywhere.  Ever have a feeling of deja vu?

She's yells for another nurse and tells me to lie down on the bed “quickly... grab hold and squeeze tight".  She runs to the counter and brings over some towels and gauzes.  The other nurse arrives: "Oh, you have a bleeder."  Then they start cleaning the floor (and my pants).  Shortly after, the first nurse says, "I'll be back in a few minutes" to which the second adds, "just hold tight", and leaves too.

So now I'm lying there holding tight with blood oozing out between my fingers when all of a sudden I give birth to a blood clot the size of a cat's head.  Unfuckinbelievable.  They come back a little while later and one says: "Ahhhh, that's what it was: a little clot." I stayed another hour until I had finished bleeding and could walk to the bathroom to take a leak - a real leak, which went fine.  So, they sent me home with a prescription from the doctor for ... iron pills.  Thanks.  On the way out, the second nurse says "don't take any aspirin, it'll upset your stomach."  Thanks again.  Too much fun.