Nov. 21, 2007 Midnight to Noon - The Flow

I have determined that I am beginning to not like Tami the nurse who came on at 7. Its just after midnight and I dread the words that are about to come out of her mouth with that cute southern drawl. They have come out of her mouth several times in the last few hours. "Any Luck?" she says. Those two words would have been fine if I was fishing, or at the Blackjack table. But at this moment in time, they were dreaded. Tonight, I definitely do not like Tami.

I cannot pee.

I have stood, laid down, sat "chick" style. I have walked. Sipped. Walked some more. I have pushed, squeezed, prayed, stood, sit, and prayed again. "God, I know you are there, and it's not like I am asking you to save my life or anything. I just wanna pee." Can one say "pee" to God. Is that one of the "words" you cannot say in church, with out the wrath of the All- Seeing, Non-Peeing God coming down upon you?

Stand, shake, sit. I cannot pee.

It's now after midnight and those two words come grating across my brain receptacles, "Any Luck"? I hate Tami. My mind screams " leave me alone you southern blankity-blank, can't you see I am trying to. I am sitting, standing, squeezing, pushing, dancing, walking, LEAVE ME ALONE", but I open my mouth and all that comes out is an embarrassed whisper of a "No". She has to let my Doctor know and we may have to put the catheter back in. I instinctively curl into a fetal position. Even I, in my Loritab induced haze know that this cannot be pleasant. It was performed under general anesthesia the first time and the only reason I know that is because there it was, in all its hanging glory after I woke up. I cannot even comprehend the horror of that occurring awake. Twelve to eighteen inches of poly-tubing being shoved up my hoo-hoo. I think "My Guy" just instinctively shrunk in horror.

Stand, shake, sit. I cannot pee. This is beginning to kinda suck.

I was starting to sweat, hey does that count as peeing, when the young female tech came in the darkened room with a rolling cart. She politely states she is here for a bladder scan to see how much fluid is in my bladder. So again I have to expose my now shrunken in fear nether regions (hey does that come in adult sizes?) to this 20 something blond tech. I definitely was not in my glory, and she scanned my non-producing bladder. 259 ml's. 259 ml's, she said again. Was that good? Bad? Do I have to worry? The tech said that the bladder is not very full. Even though they have been pumping 150 ML of fluids into me every 6 hours, since Monday, maybe I really had been dehydrated as my mouth and throat had attested to.

Stand, shake, sit, dance, squeeze, walk. I cannot pee. Oh where is that golden flow? This is really beginning to suck.

It is somewhere around 2 AM when the evil Tami returns carrying the Oh My Gosh, Mount Everest, Holy Mother of God largest IV bag I have ever seen, and I watch ER alot. Doc wants me to have a "bolus" what ever that is. I come to find out it is a large (600 ml) amount of fluid through my IV injected in a short period of time. So Tami and her three large WWE assistants carrying the 600 ML IV bag hoist the bag onto the IV pole. I think I hear the pole groaning under the massive weight of the bag. Ok, so I am exaggerating a little. The evil Tami connects the IV Bolus and starts flowing away. My hand felt a little colder, that was strange, but Here comes the Bolus. I get a new blast of Loritab, and it's off to LaLa land.

5 AM comes around, Stand, shake, pray, sit, dance, squeeze, walk, pray again. I cannot pee. I am getting desperate and truly sub-consciously fearful.

This is really beginning to suck and I decide to walk again. 6 AM is rapidly approaching when the tech come in with my twice daily dose of Pepcid and Heparin. The Pepcid is to prevent any reflux and the Heparin is a blood thinner. I am going to walk again when I feel, whats that, but the slightest bit of pressure in my bladder that sends those signals to my neural receptors, telling my brain - I GOTTA GO PEE. I shuffled off to the bathroom, bending IV pole in hand and stand there urine receptacle inn hand. I stand, I dance, Praying again now, and I hear a dribble against plastic.

Dribble, dribble............and before you know it I am into continuous partial flow. Eureka. This could be the best day ever. I can pee. Its not full force, it is a darker more concentrated color, but who cares, I can pee - which means no Foley for me. What a site, a beautiful, yellow liquid 100 ml gift for the evil Tami. Maybe she is not so evil after all.

7 AM and the evil Tami is relieved by Crystal. I have never seen anyone so happy over urine as Crystal was. She kept congratulating me, telling me how great I was doing. After that nite with the evil Tami, I am sure I see the slightest forming of an angelic halo over Crystals head. Maybe its the Loritab.

Pain is lessening from all of the lap sites except the drain site and the gas pain is really starting to intensify. Gas pain in shoulder, back and chest. Starting to get hard to stay comfortable in my bed. Walking and breathing in the breathing thingy seem to help the most.

I can pee (again). I am a big boy now.

Next Milestone will be farting, something, that my wife knows, I am an expert at.