Waking Up After Surgery

I woke up, easy to focus, as when my conscious mind awoke from it’s trip to whoknowswhere I immediately hit the ceiling. I think literally. The pain was exquisite and excruciating. What the hell kind of pain is that anyway? Throbbing, burning, in waves, constant, debilitating, all of the above, ah yes, that’s it and more. With my toes and fingers dug deep in the ceiling a kind nurse came to my aid. Holy cow. We can give you something….delirium…..we are moving you to a room….please don’t touch me. Can anyone put the fire in my penis out? The tired old vet has been beatin’ like a junk yard dog. We have something, ok, let’s break it out and apply it.
‘Oh my’ she said, ‘that’s the biggest catheter I have ever seen!’ ‘Inspiring’ I panned. Positioned now in a room and in bed I put all my Lamaze training to the test, panting and blowing through waves of pain that now filled my mid section from tits to knees.
With his comforting tone, Dr. El let me know the pain was not in my head, it was real, and was caused by an infrequently encountered condition called catheter intolerance, or to put it another way, that garden hose I stuffed up your Business not only ripped the shit out of the upholstery, but was also rejected by all the related tissue of the body in the general area. The nurse stressed that I keep on top of the pain. If I needed anything just push the call button. I did, and it did not work. She said she called maintenance, and later they brought me a large box that plugged into a wall socket designed for it; giving me a call button and making the TV work. Maintenance showed up the next morning, but I sent them away. As I lay there passing the time I found the need to call for pain every 2 hours, regular as clockwork. My first response would come 45 minutes after my first energizing the call light. Medication would follow within the next 45 minutes.
Afraid to sleep, for fear of the pain and ever so sad for being such a burden but so thankful for My Women. With health care you need an advocate.
I got this catheter routine. Mom’s final days included maintenance I was somewhat adequate help with but mercifully Vanessa would take charge when we were on watch. I shall have one for two or three weeks they say.
If I end up in Heaven, I hope I get a house with high ceilings.