Post-op Evening

There is only one problem with this plan. I have not urinated since my surgery. Forget that fact that I did quadruple duty before surgery, they want me to go now. They are pumping 100cc of D5W into my system every hour. They want me to give something back. So, the great Pee Wait begins.

I just cannot go. I feel the growing bulge in my bladder. It has been 6 hours since my surgery ended and I still have nothing to offer. I try. I think about waterfalls. I dip my hand in water. We turn on the faucet in the bathroom. I drink extra liquid, under the theory that a full bladder is a bladder that wants to empty. One hour goes by. Two. Three. Finally, it is 8:00 PM. Andrea needs to leave in one hour. I am totally paranoid about a catheter. I try to pee. I try to do it sitting, but nothing. I try to stand, but cannot get my leg in a comfortable position to stand.

The male nurse wants to start the catheter. I don’t want it. Andrea says that at least it’s a male nurse. I say I am not sure if that helps. Finally, after a morphine aided whining session, Andrea asks me if I want HER to do the catheter.

Now this may seem weird to some of you. However, my wife is a very smart woman. She knows the procedure as a licensed nurse. She has her Bachelor’s degree from University of Pittsburgh. She is still a practicing nurse, currently with Visiting Nurses, and has performed this procedure hundreds of times. She knows the ‘lay of land’ (no pun intended). I agree, if we got to go there, she should do it. (She really is a wonderful person. I am VERY lucky she puts up with me).

Well, 20 embarrassing minutes, and 1100cc of urine, later, that is done. She goes home around 9:00 PM. Sorry no more details. It was not that bad, but that is all I prefer to say about it.

I drift off to sleep; hitting my magic button as I drift off into a narcotic induced state of bliss…until I wake up at 12:30. I feel pressure in my bladder. I do the math: Another 350 cc’s of D5 are in my system. What if I cannot go? What if I have to call the nurse? In fact, I have not even spoken to the nurse. Actually, the night nurse with curly hair has awoken me several times to take my blood pressure and check my temperature. Every time she comes in she wants to chat about things, but we certainly have not yet been introduced to the point where I want her giving me a catheter.

So, I grab the plastic urinal, sit up and concentrate on letting go. Nothing happens. Fear grows. Sitting there in the near pitch dark, I squeeze hard, I imagine more waterfalls, rain and running facets. Nothing happens. I have got to take control of this. I have got to take a stand and…stand. I take my leg, which has hardly moved over the course of the last 15 hours, and drag it to the left edge of the bed. I realize that if I can’t do this, Chatty Curly, the night nurse is my only option.

Slowly, I inch the leg to the edge of the bed. The hardest part is getting my leg to be free of the sheets and blankets. I could not just flick them off. Even ½ of an inch of material caused big problems to getting the leg out.

With all my might I move the leg off the bed toward the floor. To say that this is a moment in pain would be like calling World War II a minor disagreement. I about screamed at the top of my lungs. The wildfire feeling raced up my leg, down my leg and into my head about 100 times per millisecond. But, eventually (about .87 seconds actually) the leg was down. And I stood upright for the first time since surgery. Only 15 hours after the final suture, I was standing.

I felt such a feeling of accomplishment. I felt so tall (hey, 5’9” isn’t tall, but you go through this and see how you feel). I grabbed that plastic urinal, I put it into place and I let it fly. Oh, what a great feeling: to be standing AND more importantly, to be peeing. Trust me on this. It was wonderful.

Things were working great. In fact, so great it created a new worry: How much does this plastic bottle hold anyway?

I finished in time, flung my leg back into place (more wildfire moments) and drifted off to sleep…for about 90 minutes. Had to pee again. Only, this time, I had to call the nurse to empty the last effort. This cycle went on every 60 to 90 minutes through the night. But trust me, I was happy things were working.

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