My saving grace after the operation was the lovely morphine being injected into me through the epidural that was placed directly in my spine. Instead of an oral pill, that needs to travel down your throat, into your stomach, digested by your organs, sent back to you brain, and reallocated to the pain points -- the morphine was on the express train from nervous system to brain to pain. Even better, it was running on a regular schedule with my ability to press a button when I wanted a little more juice. The catch? The epidural basically numbs the nerves in your entire midsection, which, for most guys, eliminates their ability to pee on their own. For that reason, while I was knocked out, I had a catheter inserted (google this if the name doesn't sound immediately familiar). To my surprise, this caused no pain when I was out of the surgery, and in a weird way was almost nice - I never felt like I had to pee because it was being drained out of me against my will.
But, my doctor had great faith in me, thinking, hey even though 30-40% of guys can't pee with an epidural in, this guy is young and healthy - he'll have no problem. So, at 8am the day after surgery my nurse and I got to know each other rather quickly as she told me she would be taking the catheter out. There is no great medical technique to do this; you pretty much just pull it out. Well, it felt just about as painful as that sounds. Regardless, I was relieved to be attached to one less device, and was happy to have a bit of my manhood back. The trick now was to prove that I could pee on my own; much easier said than done. I was a on mission, downing cup of water after cup of water all day long. I was like a golden retriever on a summer day. I had a bit of leeway, with my "pee deadline" of 5pm sharp. No problem, I told myself, this will be cake.
10, 12, 15, possibly 20 cups of water later, and 3 failed attempts to pee left me feeling like a pregnant woman with how bloated my stomach was. Worse, it wasn't like I had the urge to pee, but rather that my stomach just uncomfortably full. The nurse kept checking on me, hoping for good news, but unfortunately I couldn't delivery any. 4pm came and went, and so did 4:30. At 5 the nurse gave me an extension - 6pm, no arguments. To look back: 8am to 6pm drinking all that water is a hell of a long time. Needless to say, my failed attempts didn't improve any, and at 6 I accepted my fate as the lesser of two evils -- reinsert the catheter opposed to having my stomach burst.
The doctor had informed me they can use some sort of material that allows the catheter to be inserted easier, eliminating most of the pain, but apparently my nurse didn't catch that I wanted to use that, and if I did it would take an hour to get it from the pharmacy department. It will be over quick, she assured me. Dear god help me.
I wish I could say I blacked out for the next 6,7 seconds, but unfortunately the feeling that a pin was going into my @#$@ couldn't be ignored. To sum it up, it was one of the most uncomfortable and unique sensations I never wish to have again. However, once it was inserted I drained about 2 liters of urine in a minute and a half tops, surely breaking some kind of hospital record.
The next night they took the catheter out for the final time, and about 3 hours later, in the middle of the night, i proudly peed under my own strength, feeling about as manly as hulk hogan. Truly one of the great accomplishments of my short life.
In the grand scheme of things, this was an extremely minor part of my entire hospital stay, but one that really tested my pain threshold - a test I will vehemently ask never to take again. Moreover, it will make me never look at my morning pee in the same light.
sorry for the details
bassy
1 comment:
Hmmm, I wonder why there are no comments on this post??? Hahaha. Um, I feel for ya...?
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