Awoke at two in the morning with some issues with urinating, went to the hospital at seven, was referred to another hospital at nine, and was discharged and home with catheter in my bladder by one fifteen.
When I awoke at two, I was thirsty. Had a drink and a pee. The pee was problematic because it was a tiny trickle. Drank more water shortly after that, and entered a prolong state of tiny trickles and increasing pain. The pain was in my lower back, flank, and groin, and shut down my ability to sit or stand in comfort. I headed to the hospital with my wife shortly before seven.
Once there, I went into emergency care. I stripped naked, put on a backless hospital, and introduced to a bed. A bladder scan showed my bladder holding eight hundred plus CCs. A full bladder is about one hundred CCs.
My blood pressure was two-thirty over something. A pain med was injected into my right ass cheek by my hip, and an anti-nausea med was given. Attempts were made to enter my bladder with a catheter. First, a size sixteen was employed. It was painful having a catheter pushed up my urethra through my penis. Everyone kept telling me, “Breathe through it.” My wife said, “Pretend you’re giving birth.”
The med team met a wall which appeared to be an enraged prostate gland. The sixteen wouldn’t go into the bladder, but I pissed out a bunch during the attempt. A new bladder scan showed I was down to six hundred CCs. Between that reduction and the pain meds, I was comfortable, and my BP was down to 180/130.
With a numbing agent first injected into my urethra, another attempt using a smaller catheter was made, and failed, and resulted in some bleeding from my penis. The fourteen size catheter lacked the strength and rigidity necessary to reach the bladder. Consulting me, they decided to try another sixteen. This time, a doctor would try. After having the same results, a call was made to a urologist at a sister facility and a transfer referral to the other hospital’s emergency room was issued. I then puked several times. More anti-nausea meds were given via an IV. I was discharged forty-five minutes later.
It was a ginger walk back to the car.
I’d been warned to keep my eyes closed during the thirteen mile drive to avoid nausea. I ended up retching five times once I was in the next emergency room. My stomach didn’t have material to puke.
One again, I was led to a room, took everything off, and put on a backless gown. A new bladder scan showed I was down to five hundred eighty-three CCs of urine in my bladder, but I wasn’t having any pain, thanks to the meds. BP was lower. A new attempt to reach my bladder was attempted. This time we went up to a twenty. Yowza, that hurt. It failed, but more urine was drained out. Hurrah. A urologist arrived with a plan to put a camera up my urethra to see what was going on and determine why they couldn’t reach my bladder.
I was given Fentanyl. The plan was a long, messy, and painful effort, but attempt number five worked in the end. A guide wire was introduced. The guide wire managed to reach the bladder. With it and the camera in place, a catheter was inserted. At last, my bladder was emptied. After that, a nurse gave me my new tube and bag with instructions on how to use it. I was given a cloth to clean up and then dressed. As before, my bed and garments were soaked.
That was my morning and early afternoon. Back home, I tested my movement limits while my wife made me a small meal of scrambled eggs with toast. We joked about how little my poor pecker had looked during these procedures, and how many strangers had handled it that day. I drank twelve ounces of water, ate, and then explored my new catheter and bag arrangement. Some fluid was in my bag, but more was in my tube. Gravity wasn’t letting it empty into the bag. Removing the bag and tube and examining it, I realized it the bag was reversed, which pinched off the receiving end. I fixed that, and now have a steady flow going into the bag.
Through it all, my med team were professionals and polite. They communicated with me about everything, constantly apologized for my pain, and checked on me. Most supporting and powerful, though, was my wife. She made a huge difference by being there with me throughout the day, talking to me, holding my hand when possible, or rubbing my feet.
All this curtailed any writing and walking efforts today. That’s the downside. The upside is that I’m not in any pain, although there’s a small pain where the catheter is in my bladder and bending over and walking have their difficulties. I should have this out in ten days, and then will proceed with addressing the prostate issue.