Peeing, Part 4

December 19th rolled around, and it was of course snowing again. We drove to Eau Claire in the early morning dark, and I got wired up again in the pre-op room with IVs, the much-appreciated heated blanket, etc. This surgery was to go up the urethra with a laser and fry out some of the obstacle-making parts of the prostate. "Photoselective vaporization" is the delicate medical term for burning out bits of one's interior. This was the day the urologist told my wife, but not me, that my prostate was 5 times normal size. Jeezus! If I'd known that, I'd have let him at it years sooner! Godzilla roaming around my lower peeing parts! What with the years of low PSA scores, there wasn't much thought of prostate cancer, but still...

It seemed to go well, and I went home wearing the traditional bag. This was Friday, and things seemed OK through the weekend, and the blood was way down by Monday morning, so I removed the catheter and went off to work. By the end of that day, things were coming around, and I was peeing in the potty like a big boy.

In fact, I was peeing with a vigor not seen since my pre-teen years. Over the next couple weeks, I had to re-learn some urination habits. I had to aim. I couldn't read during the process. I would be done in one minute, not four or five. Many bits of stone, blood clots, etc., were still passing and might slow or misdirect my stream at any time. You have to know that my original concern was that I could write notes and shave while slowly passing urine, and now I was dealing with springtime glacier-fed mountain streams that had no concern for limits. I spent as much time cleaning up rest rooms after myself as I had spent waiting for pee. Things, in short, were weird.

One contributor to the torrents was that I was encouraged to drink plenty of fluids, and indeed I drank much more water than usual, as well as coffee, soda, beer and wine. I tried manfully to keep up the inputs, but I did slow down in the evenings, switching to shots of tasty liqueurs in hopes of waking up less often. This was moderately successful.

I did learn to dislike Vicodin. They ought to go ahead and issue a bottle of Phillips Milk of Magnesia with each prescription. Did you know that Magnesia was in ancient Turkey? Now Manisa, this city is the home of a spiced honey that I really enjoy. Vicodin does nice things for pain but it bricks up the intestines something fierce.