When it rains, it pours

Yesterday, the incontinence nurse appeared at my door. I had a memory of her saying she would be back, but I had forgotten totally the date she said she would actually be here. When the doorbell rang, I was totally surprised as I was in the middle of changing my trousers having just spilling egg yoke all over them. I used the last few seconds I had before opening the door to ensure that I didn’t have my top caught up in them, something that happens frequently. Pulling up trousers and so on, isn’t the easiest things to do one handed. If I’m not holding onto something, there is a huge danger of losing my balance when contorting my body to achieve the desired results. She was here to once more scan my stomach to see if my bladder was holding onto fluid, or behaving itself and emptying. She had previously done two test, both through in the morning, this was the first in the afternoon.

I had told her when she was first here, that I found it easier to empty my bladder in the morning, as I had taken my frusemide then. She didn’t seem to get the connection, but when the drug pulls the excess fluid out of my body, I then have a bulk to get rid of. The force of the quantity always seems to make the whole process easier. Later in the day, especially in the evening, I have to spend time relaxing and concentrating on the whole process, but frequently pass nothing more than a series of dribbles. This was exactly what happened when she asked me to go to the loo, and I wasn’t in the slightest bit surprised when she found that I had held onto 198mils. While I was lying there on my bed, covered in gel, I asked her a question, “How long is it safe to go if you can’t empty your bladder?”. She seemed somewhat flustered by the question and said that she had never been asked that before. So I told her about what happened a few nights ago, I quite simply couldn’t empty it and had even been wondering about calling the district nurse for their help, as I had gone from around 4pm right into the night unable to pass anything, other than the odd drip or dribble. I had woken several times during the night as it wasn’t painful, but uncomfortable. It wasn’t until just after 4am that I had success. I was absolutely sure that it had been caused by my guts, as they were full, and they weren’t moving anywhere. She didn’t really answer me at that moment, and I admit that I was somewhat distracted at that point, as she dropped a huge blob of gel onto my just put on clean trousers.

She asked me to go back to the loo and try again, just to see if I could shift anymore, which I did. The result was I brought the stored liquid down to just 95mils. As I was sorting myself out, I asked her again about the length of time it would be safe to keep trying. She asked me to go through to the living room while she cleaned up and put away her scanner and so on, she would join me there and we would have a chat. It was when we were both in the living room, that she said that clearly down to my dexterity and the problems I had inserting them without drawing blood, something that had happened more than once, due to spasms, that self-catheterizing or what they call intermittent catheters just wasn’t suitable for me any longer. She then said that it might be time for me to have either an indwelling catheter or a suprapubic one. I had to admit that I didn’t know what the difference was. Apparently, the indwelling is a permanent catheter inserted just as the intermittent but stayed there held in place by a water-filled balloon, the suprapubic is put into the bladder through a whole in your stomach and just like the indwelling empties into a bag on your leg, or some have a valve that allows you to have say in when it is emptied. She did though what to go back to the hospital and discuss it with her superior and would call me in a few days.

To be honest, I didn’t really take it in until she left. Here was another person wanting to bypass nature’s way and take over with plastic. I could within months find myself with both my bowels and my bladder emptying into bags. I also did the exact wrong thing, I read up about it online, where of course I found all the bad things about having them, the possible infections, bladder stones, and so on, and how they have to be cared for. I also came across the horrific entry that said the suprapubic could be inserted under a local anaesthetic, which sounds horrific to me. On the good side, I wouldn’t have to wear all these terrible uncomfortable pads, as the issue of wetting myself will have been taken care of. Mind you, would having a tube coming out of me, be any more comfortable?

I do know the dangers of my bowel not emptying, especially as the last thing I need is any infection as they are bound to throw me into a flare, but all of this feels as though it is running away with me. I can’t remember when, but I know that I have written it more than once, if you invite the medical profession into your life, without a doubt, they will find something wrong with you that you didn’t expect. I invited her in when I started wetting the bed as I wanted to get the free pads through the NHS, now suddenly, I’m facing possible permanent catheterisation. A result that never entered my head when I asked my doctor to help, as I was wetting the bed.


Please read my blog from 2 years ago today – 04/07/2014 – 1 hour is changing my life

Sometimes it takes something going wrong, for you to realise that it has always been wrong, yesterday was a perfect example of that. The day started well, my new system to give me more time to myself and also to allow me to still be active online while Teressa and John were here, it worked perfectly. I did push it in how fast I was doing everything and that believe me is…..