Peeing, Part 7

It's two weeks since the last invasion of my penis. I am going peepee in the potty like a big boy. I'm having only a few small bits pass in my urine. Sometimes those bits can re-direct the stream, so I have to pay attention. Like it says in the tavern restroom: "We aim to please. You aim, too, please." I have not had bloody urine since early the day after the last surgery. My stream is generally much better that it was before the treatment began; this means that my bladder empties more completely and faster, so I finish in the can in two minutes rather than five. And it seems that the dreaded post-pee dribble is reduced.

I had a visit today with the urologist. He says that I should notice continuing improvement as time goes by. I am still on reduced lifting for the rest of February, but not as severe as before. He says I shouldn't snowmobile or ride ATVs (I've never done either one). I should stay off the exercise bike for a couple more weeks. I am not taking either of the prescription prostate medicines I had been on, Flomax or Avodart, as they did little and their target is now about half its former size. The parts that are gone were the parts that squeezed the urethra and the parts that crowned up into my bladder, causing difficult access to the outlet. I showed him a shape about the size of a small lemon, and he said that was a good estimate of the bladder stone he removed. He had sent the bit of tissue he removed for lab work, and he told me it was not cancerous. He said my urine sample was free of bacteria, so no infection had set up shop. He gave me the OK to begin imagining using my penis for things other than peeing. And, barring any setbacks, I will see him again this summer.

Based on that last round of problems, I have a bit of lurking paranoia. But I think that I may end up winning this one. To celebrate, I think I'll have another beer.