Last summer I was living and enjoying my life. Working at a job I enjoyed, and being well paid. There was a drawback with this job however, which I will get to later. I was just content with my state of health, never in my life having any major issues. Never had been a patient in hospital.
I was happy enough, having a few alcoholic drinks a week, and plenty of junk food. But also trying to keep it healthy, food wise, when I could be bothered.
My sex life was okay, but also included some anal play, which I believe was the start of my troubles.
After indulging in the latter, I woke up the next day, and found when I urinated it strung, a stinging irritation. Not something I had ever encountered before.
Left it for a day or two, then contacted the Doctor by phone, who prescribed some antibiotic, Plexay, or something like that. A six day course, which I completed, but was not feeling much better. In fact feeling a lot worse.
Mainly unable to urinate at all, by this stage, and when I did manage to urinate what came out of the urine channel, was red, mucky gunk, and my groin seemed very sick to look at.
To leave my room and go down the one flight of stairs, to get some fresh water, seemed like one of the hardest journeys of my life. I was gripping the wall as I staggered down, and verbally encouraging myself.
Having retrieved some fresh water, I was faced with the ordeal of returning upstairs to my bedroom. Not a prospect I relished, but had to be done, and I did so. Being unable to urinate by this stage, and my belly feeling very full, a retired nurse of my acquaintance phoned and insisted I call an ambulance straight away.
I was very hesitant to do so, as I did not believe I was very unwell, and did not feel that unwell, with an obvious headache, or stomach ache. I did not really want to bother hospital emergency staff unless it was a really serious issue. I did call for an ambulance shortly afterward under protest, and an ambulance, and a second paramedic car pulled up to the house.
Out tumbled five paramedics, advanced paramedics, and one or two trainees, with all their medical gear. I was sitting on a chair on the landing at this stage, after some consultation between the paramedics next thing I was been carried down the stairs in a wheelchair, and taken into the back of the ambulance. All rather surprising to myself.
The journey to the emergency department seemed to take forever, even though it was only a thirty minute stroll down the road. Why were there no sirens,
I wanted to ask, are the blues lights flashing, I also wanted to know, just for the record……But I never asked, it just didn’t seem appropriate, somehow.
In there I was given Ketamine, among other drugs, and taken into the emergency dept. A catheter was inserted, didn’t feel it, thanks to the drugs I had been given. A high dependency unit was considered, by the medical staff as I ended up with eGFR of 4%, severe AKI,(Acute Kidney Injury), Uroseppis, severe urinary retention, and was offered the services of a Priest. Never a good sign !
During my two months as a hospital patient, as I recovered, with nephrostomy’s were inserted in both kidneys. Main causes, BHP (Enlarged Prostate) and toxic chemicals permeating the air next to my place of employment in the heavy industrial area of the local port. After much reading I now understand the medical and environmental issues that caused my AKI(Acute Kidney Injury).
I have had the nephrostomys in place for nearly nine months, and at this stage I am sick of the sight of them. Feeling like Frankinstein’s monster. What woman would find that attractive, or acceptable when it comes to frolicking between the sheets. They are just very unwelcome encumbrances now.
Had a cystoscopy last month. That was an interesting afternoon ! I went from initially refusing to have it done, the very idea, to desperately wanting it done as soon as possible.It was not at all as brutal as portrayed by the comments on the YouTube videos. It at least put my mind at rest, what with all the publicity regarding Charles, head of the English royal family and his cancer diagnosis, it was a relief to get it done, and to find out what was happening there. An enlarged prostate was confirmed as the main source of my troubles.
At my follow appointment after my discharge I was quite excited, to at last be getting rid of these ugly tubes and especially the urine bags.
The Professor’s manner was somber, when I entered his small grey office, although he did shake my hand. I had continually and resolutely refused a ’Turp’ procedure which the medical staff had consistently suggested I have, during my hospital stay.
Not too long into the conversation the Professor shifted away from scanning my test results onscreen, and looked me in the eye.
‘It’s only a matter of time before you’re back in here with us, on dialysis, possibly a transplant’.
This now was not at all what I was expecting, nor hoping for.
It’s only a matter of time,’ the professor reiterated.
I had heard him the first time, and did not need a second remainder. I never particularly liked the man, with his sour demeanor, even less so now.
‘How are you getting on with the tubes in your kidneys’, he ventured.
‘I would quiet like to have the tubes removed from my kidneys now,’ I returned.
‘Well he said, if you learn intermittent catheterization, we can do that. Let me call one of the urology nurses to show you how to do that.’
An appointment was arranged for the following week, with the urology nurse, unfortunately it was not the nurse I had met in the Professor’s office the previous week, as I quiet fancied her, and would have no objection to her manipulating my groin.
Instead I was greeted at my appointment by a not very pleasant nurse in her thirties, and had a strong feeling the meeting was not going to go well, and it didn’t ! We chatted, and then she studied my medical notes on her computer screen,
‘Your creatinine level reached 3000’.
I said nothing, but knew she lied, God only knows why. Having read all my medical reports, and everything to do with my hospital stay, I knew the truth. My creatinine was 1025 at its highest. Still high enough and concerning. I don’t like being lied to, who does.
This set the rather negative, unpleasant tone for the meeting. She then proceeded to the cabinet and retrieved a rigid like stick device, with an arrow like tip, approx twelve inches in length, and explained that I was to be insert this stick into my urinary channel three to four times a day, and I was to prod my bladder with the said stick, to release the urine. The very idea !
That certainly knocked the wind out of my sails. However, having quickly regained my composure I firmly assured her I had absolutely no intention whatsoever of carrying out such a sadistic maneuver, not only once, but up to four times a day.
I briefly contemplated the sadist who ever came up with such an idea in the first place, and concluded his mind must indeed be very warped, and sick.
‘No, I am certainly not doing that’.
‘Well then your wasting my time here’, she responded coldly.
I left her office shortly after, and was glad to get away from her, and her mad ideas. as she wrote up her notes for the Professor. I considered how a woman who acts like such a bitch, pursues a position in a healing institution, such as a hospital. To that question, I am still at a loss.
As it stands I still have both nephrostomy’s, and stage 3B kidney disease and am trying to heal myself by complementary methods, non inflammatory foods, trying reflexology currently, as I don’t fancy any operation, so will have to see how we go.
But I am hopeful as I see many others have recovered from kidney disease, and managed to reduce prostate size.
That was my summer last year..
06-04-2024.
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