When a man turns 50 besides getting daily reminders from AARP in the mail he also gets an enlarged prostate. It's not a problem for many men but for some of us we get some disturbing symptoms: frequent urges to urinate, reduced flow, urinary retention, frequent trips to the bathroom at night, etc. Getting old is not for sissies!
I had all of the above problems and decided to see my VA doc first. He prescribed medications but the symptoms persisted. So I decided to go to my family (civilian) physician. He sent me to a urologist, something the VA doc should have done. My first visit to the urologist resulted in a diagnosis of urinary retention and I was scheduled for a cytoscopic examination of the urethra, bladder, and prostate. A cytoscope is a "small" (nothing can really be "small" when it goes into your urethra) camera and tube that goes into the urethra to accomplish this purpose. The next week I went to the Augusta Urology Center and was prepped for the cytoscope. The technician whose job it was to wash my private area and inject a painkiller cannot be paid enough - I know that is one job I would never do. Indignity after indignity would follow. Then the cytoscope came and I learned that my bladder was in very bad shape, was too large, my prostate was healthy but surgery was recommended to "trim" the prostate. And, as if he was telling me that I should take an aspirin every day, the urologist said the catheter would stay in until my surgery was scheduled. He estimated four to six days - it took three weeks! It was not a scheduling problem but the lady who is supposed to set up the surgery appointment simply did not do it until I called.
Getting a catheter is a life-changing event. I don't think my urologist understands this - though I have vowed to make sure he does. When I learned that I would have to "wear" a catheter until I had surgery I was in shock (I don't know why we say "wear" a catheter - I mean do you "wear" a stick in the eye or a knife in the gut?). I didn't really hear the instructions for using it. I just knew that I walked into this place a young man (59 really is young!) who ran eight miles a week, went wherever he wanted to, and did pretty much whatever he wanted to BUT I would walk out a humbled, disabled, old man who was tied down to a bag of urine! I saw many of my dreams being shattered: traveling, running, camping out with my grandkids, going out to restaurants, etc. I went back to work and finished out the day (I am a counselor at the VA) trying to figure out why I should be listening to all these silly complaints about depression, anxiety, and PTSD when I had my world turned upside down a few minutes ago. I made it through the day (and my patients survived) and then I went home to begin life at home with a catheter.
It was uncomfortable and every move would yank and pull on it, which produced a painful reminder that it was still there. Little by little I learned how to use it, support it properly so nothing pulled on the tube, clean it, change it, empty it, and wash my hands at all the right times. I bought vinegar to clean he bags (you get a leg bag for daytime and a bed bag for nighttime), Clorox wipes, and alcohol. Each morning I swapped the bed bag for the leg bag and reversed the procedure each night before bedtime. In between there were many scares - why was there blood in the bag? Am I dying? Just arrived at work and I had to call Karen (my wife) to ask her to bring me a change of clothes because the tube became detached from the leg bag and I leaked all over myself. I had to stay in my office until she arrived - thankfully, no one knocked on my door. It happened another time at home on my chair and I, like a little kid, had to clean up my mess and change pajamas. Some positive things: for three weeks my bladder got to heal, be emptied regularly, and I called on my Lord Jesus Christ almost every moment.
Surgery was scheduled for 21 June. I took that day and the next off for sick leave and figured I would return to work Monday. I did not know if I would be bagless or not. We arrived at Trinity Hospital at 10:30am and in a short time I was given a relaxing medication and the "spinal" for anesthesia. Surgery was ahead of schedule - I was awake for most of it and heard the doctor talk about what he was trimming and what would help. He found a few prostate stones that he removed also. I felt no pain then or afterwards. I took one Percocet because they would not give me ibuprofen. Recovery took a short time and then I was in my room (Room 105). All my family, two friends, and my pastor came to see me. Karen stayed all night. I really was ready to just go to sleep at 8:00pm but they kept coming. Multiple times during the night the nurses came to disturb me - empty my bag, etc. When I looked I saw an even larger catheter than I had before. It had to be larger because it pumped liquid into my bladder to flush out the blood. I made a few moves that I regretted and paid for it with mild pain and an increase in blood coming out. I learned that I would be "wearing" the catheter home and would have it in until Monday. I saw Dr. Cain Friday morning and he released me. He instructed me on how to remove the catheter on Monday morning. I looked forward to nothing else for the weekend - though I also built up a mountain of fear that it would not work as it was supposed to and the catheter would be stuck in me much longer.
That was the most uncomfortable weekend since I had the catheter placed. The large tube was placed just so every move would pull on it and more blood would flow. I readjusted the placement and had fewer problems - unfortunately I became an expert on catheter placement and support. I had very little bleeding after that and waited out the weekend. Probably due to doing a little too much visiting with my family I developed a swelling near the entrance of the catheter - I treated it with antibiotic ointment and hydrocortisone ointment. It subsided some by Sunday but only a little. I went to church on Sunday but probably should have stayed home. We have the whole family over on Sunday (we had a low-country boil for all of them on Saturday too) so I was "familied out" by 6:00pm - but they stayed. I prepared all my tools for the next morning: scissors to cut the tube that inflated the balloon that kept the catheter in place in the bladder, a doubled plastic bag to place the catheter and bags in when I no longer needed them, a towel and wash cloth so I could take my shower immediately after the "procedure". I went to bed by 9:00pm in great anticipation and fear of removing the catheter when I got out of bed in the morning. I prayed all night that the Lord would heal me, help all to work out as planned, and to help the catheter come out painlessly. I got up before 5:00am. Emptied my bag and placed my tools in the right places. I turned on the shower and closed the curtain. There are three tubes coming out of me. One was the tube that used to pump liquid into my bladder at the hospital. It was capped - I removed the cap thinking it may interfere with removing the catheter. The second tube was the drainage tube that led to my bag. The most important tube for me was the third tube. It was the smallest of the three and it was capped as well. It held the liquid that inflated the balloon in my bladder. My job was to cut it with scissors in the middle of the tube, let the liquid run out until it stopped (I read on the Internet that at least two tablespoons of liquid should come out), and then pray for the next step. I cut the tube and liquid flowed as it should - more than two tablespoons I thought. Then it stopped. I prayed and asked the Lord (by the way - I usually do not pray in the shower out of respect for my God) to let the catheter slide out with no problems. I gently pulled on it and the catheter slowly slid out. A little pain followed but not too much. I kept pulling and could feel it sliding out past sensitive areas that caused brief discomfort. As I pulled I noticed that urine and blood also came out. Finally the last of the tube came out and I saw that horrible balloon thankfully deflated as it should be. I grabbed by bag and placed the tube into it and set it aside. I praised my God! I felt no pain. Then I took my shower. When I was finished I walked out the bathroom and my "sleeping" wife asked how everything worked out. I gave her the good news and she and I praised God together. I packed up all my bags in the bag with the tube, tied them up, and my first act after my Bible study was to bring the bag down the driveway to the trash can. Bible study that morning was very sweet and filled with praise. I felt wonderful and several moments that morning I broke into praise of my God - alone and with my wife Karen when she got up.
However, my work and fear was not over. I had to make sure I could urinate and had a urinal bottle that I had to measure each attempt. It started out slowly - 50 milliliters at first but then more and more. A little blood flowed too but not in great amounts. By the end of the day I added up the numbers and found that my output was on par with my catheter output - more reason to praise!
I went to work - probably should not have done it and had to make two trips down to the ward to see two patients and then sit around my office to see my other patients. Thankfully, my last patient cancelled and I left at 3:00pm on sick leave. Thank You, Lord, that I have plenty of sick leave saved up! When I got home I put on my pajamas and rested as much as I could. I felt great and more praises were offered up. I ate and rested and then Karen and I went outside to sit with the grandkids at the swing. Life is good! I'm at work as I finish this but will only work half a day. I'm supposed to take it easy for six weeks - no lifting, etc. I drove to work today and will drive myself to my dermatology appointment at 2:00pm and then home!
I am doing fine - small amounts of blood still come out but many times none at all. It is great being "cordless" and things, so far, are better than before the catheter came into my life. I pray and believe that it will continue.
Lord, though I am aging I still praise You! All it really means is that I am getting closer to my Home. So getting old is not the curse I usually believe it is. Here's what God has to say:
Proverbs 20:29 - The glory of young men is their strength, but the splendor of old men is their gray hair. (I used to love this verse much more when the only sign of my age was my gray hair though).
2 Corinthians 4:16 - So we do not lose heart. Though our outer self is wasting away, our inner self is being renewed day by day.
Psalm 71:18 - So even to old age and gray hairs, O God, do not forsake me, until I proclaim your might to another generation, your power to all those to come.
Psalm 71:9 - Do not cast me off in the time of old age; forsake me not when my strength is spent.
Thank You, Lord. ~GJH~26 June 2012