terrier
Well-Known Member
- Joined
- Dec 26, 2004
- Messages
- 4,735
Greatest Christmas ever - great to be alive. That's what waking up Christmas Eve on a Foley will do to you.
Anyhow, my flowage had been a little irregular last week, and by Friday morning, was a big enough concern to merit an appointment with my doctor. Went to work, did some Christmas shopping, came home and couldn't manage much more than a drip. Mrs. Terrier, a nurse, practically ordered me to go visit the ER at the hospital down the street.
Went to the desk, went to triage, and waited about two hours or so. Finally into the ER, I received a blood test and a prostate exam (I'm 45, old enough for that to be an issue), and they decided to hold me overnight because my white blood cell count was pretty elevated - the doc feared sepsis. By now, Mrs. Terrier is at work, scared just as ****less as I am.
The nurse hooks me up to the dreaded Foley - physical pain and aggravation like I've never experienced in my life (made blowing my ACL feel like a day at the beach, where that actually happened). With the laughter and inane banter of the ER docs and nurses in my ears, I lay on the ER bed with a Foley and IV in me til 4 a.m., when I was finally moved to a urology wing room.
Fortunately, the antibiotics worked, and I flowed nicely through the Foley and into the bag. Saturday's adventures included a second prostate exam (the urologist agreed with the ER doc that it was slightly swollen) and an ultrasound on my bladder and kidneys. I'll be charitable and blame this incident on a nursing shift change mishap: My Foley had been clamped because I needed fluid in my bladder for the ultrasound. Several hours afterward, with Mrs. Terrier at bedside (as she'd been all day) and my brother about to leave after stopping by, I felt some discomfort down there. Mrs. T. lifted my blanket and discovered they hadn't taken the clamp off me - I was backing up. I don't think I'd be writing this if Mrs. T. hadn't alerted a staff nurse to it (she was really struggling to be deferential to the staff by this point).
I was hoping to be out Sunday in time for a late-afternoon paying freelance gig (live-blogging Pats-Dolphins), but a delayed ultrasound report (which turned out fine) and a late-arriving doc ensured I didn't get out until yesterday, The partial diagnosis: a urinary tract infection, caused by either (or a combination of) a slightly enlarged prostate and over-the-counter sinus headache pills I'd been taking. I promptly chucked those pills when I got home.
Woke up Monday, the Foley was removed, and I was reunited with my old buddy I.P. Freely.
Happy ending: I'm home, had a great Christmas today at my sister's house, am feeling better on the Cipro and Flomax diet, and should be fine to work tomorrow.
The moral: Please take care of your prostates and have them checked regularly, fellow male over-40s, and if you have flow issues, deal with them pronto. Please share your tales if you've got 'em (the uglier and bawdier, the better - I've held back some good stuff in case this thread gets on a good run, so to speak).
God bless everyone! Happy holidays!
Anyhow, my flowage had been a little irregular last week, and by Friday morning, was a big enough concern to merit an appointment with my doctor. Went to work, did some Christmas shopping, came home and couldn't manage much more than a drip. Mrs. Terrier, a nurse, practically ordered me to go visit the ER at the hospital down the street.
Went to the desk, went to triage, and waited about two hours or so. Finally into the ER, I received a blood test and a prostate exam (I'm 45, old enough for that to be an issue), and they decided to hold me overnight because my white blood cell count was pretty elevated - the doc feared sepsis. By now, Mrs. Terrier is at work, scared just as ****less as I am.
The nurse hooks me up to the dreaded Foley - physical pain and aggravation like I've never experienced in my life (made blowing my ACL feel like a day at the beach, where that actually happened). With the laughter and inane banter of the ER docs and nurses in my ears, I lay on the ER bed with a Foley and IV in me til 4 a.m., when I was finally moved to a urology wing room.
Fortunately, the antibiotics worked, and I flowed nicely through the Foley and into the bag. Saturday's adventures included a second prostate exam (the urologist agreed with the ER doc that it was slightly swollen) and an ultrasound on my bladder and kidneys. I'll be charitable and blame this incident on a nursing shift change mishap: My Foley had been clamped because I needed fluid in my bladder for the ultrasound. Several hours afterward, with Mrs. Terrier at bedside (as she'd been all day) and my brother about to leave after stopping by, I felt some discomfort down there. Mrs. T. lifted my blanket and discovered they hadn't taken the clamp off me - I was backing up. I don't think I'd be writing this if Mrs. T. hadn't alerted a staff nurse to it (she was really struggling to be deferential to the staff by this point).
I was hoping to be out Sunday in time for a late-afternoon paying freelance gig (live-blogging Pats-Dolphins), but a delayed ultrasound report (which turned out fine) and a late-arriving doc ensured I didn't get out until yesterday, The partial diagnosis: a urinary tract infection, caused by either (or a combination of) a slightly enlarged prostate and over-the-counter sinus headache pills I'd been taking. I promptly chucked those pills when I got home.
Woke up Monday, the Foley was removed, and I was reunited with my old buddy I.P. Freely.
Happy ending: I'm home, had a great Christmas today at my sister's house, am feeling better on the Cipro and Flomax diet, and should be fine to work tomorrow.
The moral: Please take care of your prostates and have them checked regularly, fellow male over-40s, and if you have flow issues, deal with them pronto. Please share your tales if you've got 'em (the uglier and bawdier, the better - I've held back some good stuff in case this thread gets on a good run, so to speak).
God bless everyone! Happy holidays!
