Wednesday, October 24, 2007

Giving Birth to the Bladder-Baby

This happened to a friend of mine...yeah. I'm only writing it as though it happened to me, to make it funnier.

Apparently, if you are a woman, you don't need to read this. You would just think that I, err my friend is a big baby.

Friday night, I got sudden fever and chills. Saturday morning, the bio-plumbing stopped working. I toughed it out, no big deal. Saturday evening, I was moaning to the wife that I was dying! She said stop whining, and if it's bad go to the hospital. The fact that I give the same response to sniffles, or a stubbed toe is irrelevant here.

By late evening, after the wife had gone to bed, I was beginning to clue in, that there was a problem here. Being a Canadian, I sought to blast it out with 2 bottles of beer, since that always made me pee, eh? Big mistake! After this, I looked up "urinary retention" on the Internet and became an Instant Expert. The big advice was "GO TO EMERG!" ...nah!

1:00 AM and I couldn't sleep for the pain. I snuck out without telling the wife and drove to Emerg. Who needs that pain, on top of this pain? I enter and go to the Triage Nurse, who looks like she just got back from Afghanistan, and has seen Canadian bodies blown apart.

"I can't pee." (pause)
"Fill out the forms and sit down"

I sit right at the front, which is totally empty, and she can see me. I know that will help when I give her my puppy-dog eyes! Every once in a while, another nurse comes and pulls out a form from the form-slot board and calls out a name. Somebody comes from way in the back. I look back, and Geez, there's a lot of people! What do they want?

More forms pulled, and one gets laughed at, and stashed in the back. Better not be mine!

Dumm, de dumm dumm. Deep breathing, it's only dilated 4 cm! A mother goes up with her son. Bet it's only the sniffles!

Dumm, de dumm dumm. An ambulance brings in a 'party assault'. Can't be that bad. Nobody's running in with a crash cart, like they do on TV.

Dumm, de dumm dumm. A bevy of beautiful Party Paris Hiltons walk in. One of them has a tiny bandage wrapped around her exquisite wrist. Perhaps she slugged the stretcher guy?

Dumm, de dumm dumm. Somebody asks the nurse 'how's business?'. She says, it's not the usual SIX HOUR WAIT!

Finally, a whole hour after, my name is called. I'm sent to a room where the usual 'happy shroud' is waiting for me. Oh well, who needs human dignity? Should I even bother tying the top?

Half an hour later the emerg doc waltzes in. "Yep, you've got a big bladder there." Ya think?? Then comes the nurse with THE THING!

I know it's gonna hurt, but if she was carrying a hara-kari sword, ready to disembowel me, I wouldn't care. SHIT!! THAT HURT!! Ah, relief!

For those of you that 'diss' the Canadian Medical System, they kept me for about an hour, while I had a good snooze, and they got back the lab results. Then they strapped on a bag, and gave me the name and number of a urologist to call on Monday. He saw me right away, and said I had a prostate infection, which really shouldn't happen. I knew that from the Internet!

He booked me for an appointment to have a very teensy-weensy 'flexible tube coated with freezing gel' shoved up me, again. He should tell Nurse Fanny about that freezing gel stuff! Then he yanked out the Foley Catheter (SHIT, THAT HURT!), prescribe some huge horse-pills, and I was on my way!



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