Frustrated...

At this point, I'm officially sick and tired of being sick and tired. There's been good news and bad news since I wrote last. Which do we want first? Let's go good news.

The good news is, per my doctor appointment last Friday, which represented the 2.5 week mark since surgery, everything looks good. My Dr. filled my bladder while simultaneously looking at it under x-ray (an odd experience I would not recommend. An observing nurse commented my new, uber-bladder looks like a lopsided snowman. Gee, thanks.) It filled properly and is significantly larger than before. It will continue to stretch out and enlarge over the next 6 months. Like everything in America, the bigger, the better. She then took out the tube that was in my new stoma, in my belly button, and showed us how to self-catheterize through the new opening there. This also was a weird experience. Basically I push a lubed-up red tube into my belly button and ten or so inches later (is there a 'that's what she said' joke in there somewhere?) and pee starts to come out (Nope). During this whole process, I've tried to maintain the tact that it will be 6 weeks of hell followed by total awesomeness and convenience. And therein lies the bad news.

This hell sucks. If it's not the constant sweating, followed by shivering, followed by more sweating, it's a non-draining bladder and the resultant discomfort, all for reasons unknown and unfixable, besides a little word called patience. Easier said than done, my friend. The healing process is a rollercoaster, peaks and valleys swiftly trading places without rhyme or reason. That's one of my favorite Spanish expressions, 'without rhyme or reason'. Sin ton ni son. This whole flipping process has been severely sin ton ni son.  

This also is sin ton ni son.


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