Peeing, Part 5

The first part of this tale is of a couple weeks of happiness with a few bumps. Like Christmas Day, when I blew out a couple of clots and sprayed pink (bloody) pee all over our host's bathroom. I cleaned up as much as I could find. Or when something the size of a dime passed through my penis, and I marveled at it, thinking that such would not have been possible for many years previously. It is a tale of ever-increasing vigilance, as restroom visits became shorter (a hoped-for benefit) but more unpredictable. It's picking up a Reader's Digest, then setting it right back down as I realized I needed some control over a formerly safe, if nearly-dead, process.

Things seemed to be progressing nicely. Clots seemed to be on the decline, and would show up every few days, and would clear acceptably. My urine remained almost entirely yellow, or even clear if I ran enough water (etc.) through. I was in Fat City, thinking that the urologist was a genius and that I had maybe waited too long to achieve this happy state.

January 20th - a day which will live in infamy (sorry, FDR). Things started out OK; even my first restroom visit at work seemed fine. WARNING: the squeamish, who should have bailed long ago, are hereby told flat out that things will get disgusting.

About noon, I felt a need to go, and went to the john. I was unable to get urine to pass, which was a bit unhappy-making, but I noticed blood dripping from my penis. OK, I thought, I have a clot which isn't quite passing yet. Sadly, I noticed this blood right after shaking some onto my pants.
I went back to my work station, trying to sit in a really inconspicuous way. After a couple hours, the urge to go returned, and I got some coverage for my position and went back to the restroom. I managed to pass a tiny bit of bloody urine, but was not getting relief from the pressure. I saw a clot trying to emerge, and was able to grab it with toilet paper and remove it.

Then I saw the thing which knocked me back. I saw a bit of white tissue, looking something like a grub, trying to emerge. I strained, I pushed, but advanced this piece of stuff only a little. My penis became directional, as if this thing was of some length and was aiming things, somewhat to the right. A small tip emerged, and I grabbed it with toilet paper and pulled, but I broke off a bit. At this point I knew I was in some trouble.

I called the Urology Clinic, and was told to get over there. I bailed from work, with excellent support from my co-workers, and drove to the clinic, about 20 minutes across Eau Claire. There, the nurse and a urologist tried, with no local anaesthetic, to get hold of the tissue and/or clots and pull them out. Getting some, they backed off and re-catheterized me, draining off a good quart of pent-up pee which was by now quite pink.

After discussion, they did a quick irrigation, which tried to extract some old clots, and set up a bag to run lots of fluid in as a rinse. Then they decided I should spend the night in the hospital, with a continuous irrigation, and would have a surgical look-see in the morning.