Friday, February 1, 2013

Bye Bye Brain

Let me just start out with a sentence of sheer honesty..

This week has been beyond shitty. 

I have been to the doctor more times and had more strangers examining and placing things in my urethra than I feel like are legally necessary. I also understand that I have to take even the smallest victories and celebrate them, otherwise my life looks quite sad... So I feel over the moon levels of excitement to say that the Golden Purse (my foley catheter) is GONE! I went to the urologist yesterday and after not much chatting or examination that the "ONLY logical explanation" to my problem was that all of my medication is causing retention. Almost as quickly, he decided that it would be best if I placed my own catheters 5 times a day! Let me just say that I was not a fan of this option, and when I said something about it, the nurse told me that I could do it that way or I could put the "Purse" back in. Well... Then... Fuh...
I silently started to cry as the nurse and her assistant (I'm guessing) came in to TEACH me the Art that is self catheterization. She told me to completely rid myself of my bottoms and my less than helpful paper drape as "you can't hold a drape and put one of these in. so, you might as well just get used to it." More tears came down as I obeyed... and not to get totally graphic about it... But she then had me put one leg up on the exam table and then KNEELED on the ground underneath me and got beyond personal while trying to teach me how I was to do this multiple times every day. I was given a couple other instructions and told to keep up this until I saw the doc again in a MONTH! 
By the end of my appointment, I was openly crying... and while I didn't want to talk, share, explain or do anything other than get as far away from this horrible experience as I possibly could... I do remember feeling so surprised that no one had asked me if I was okay, or asked what was upsetting me or even if they wanted to be rude about it and say, "What in the hell is your problem?" At least at that point they have been acknowledging that what was happening was not okay with me... But, they didn't.

I left the appointment with J in toe (who has seen more of my madness than I'm sure she was ever ready for this week), got into my car, where I immediately text Reese and told her that I was coming in for a session. She had blocked off a bit of time for me as a last-resort-just-in-case scenario after my urology appointment, but I didn't hesitate taking my 3rd session this week for even a second.

I sat in Reese's office, bawled, came unglued and managed to try and tape the pieces back in place long enough for me to walk out of there. I can't remember everything that we discussed in there... But, we did talk about how having a short 7-14 day stay at The Mansion may be helpful to me as I tried to figure out what in the frig is going on with me medically, and if I did actually need to cath myself or have one placed again that I would be around a beyond loving staff who knows far more about my trauma and my potty problems than I care to admit. I also think that somewhere in there that I told Reese that she could call my mom and give her a more detailed explanation as to what is going on and see if her coming here, or me spending some time at home in Cali would do me some good.

I don't know if any of this is a good idea. I don't know if this is a bad idea. I don't really know if I am in Utah or on Mars at this point. All I know is that yesterday morning I didn't know how to pull urine out of my own bladder and tonight, unfortunately I am able to successfully cath myself (yes. I just said "cath" Apparently Catheter and I are bosom buddies now so using its full name just seems unfriendly). I was like 3 hours into my work shift this morning when all of this treatment"planning" hit me and I starting sending texts and emails to my providers trying to slow this train down. I don't think that I know what I need right now... All I know is that I am beyond exhausted, and I am pretty sure that my brain is still trying to catch up with itself.

So basically,

Get back to me in a week. 
Also, I hold myself completely NOT responsible for ANY stupid thing that I may say, fleetingly think or even dream until my mental faculties are back in business.
And I promise to stop talking about urinary systems, just as soon as they stop invading every facet of my life.
Because, I just think its icky.