T.U.N.A. (Maybe TMI)

T.U.N.A. = Trans Urethral Needle Ablation. I’ve gotta have it. Tomorrow morning. They’re gonna stick a cattle prod where I don’t want a cattle prod stuck and they’re gonna use RF waves from the cattle prod to trim my damned old wore out prostrate gland to a more appropriate size. The RF waves are gonna make the cattle prod HOT as it does the trimming. REALLY HOT. AND, they’re gonna stick a fiber optic thingie equipped with a teeny little video camera down my never mind and then they’re gonna clamp it in place so it doesn’t come out so they can watch as they torture me with the REALLY HOT cattle prod.

Tomorrow morning at 7:30, I get to take two Diazepam 100 mg tablets AND two Hydrocodone/APAP 10mg/500mg (whatever the hell that means) tablets so I will feel all warm and fuzzy before the torture begins. Afterwards I will probably be blessed with a catheter for a few days. But it isn’t gonna hurt “too much” because the urologist told me so. I think by that he means that it won’t hurt him at all and if it doesn’t hurt him, everything is peachy.

Oh, well, life begins at 65 and these are, after all, the golden years. The AARP says so.

You know, I was going to start a thread about how much I hate going to the doctor, because he keeps telling me to lose weight and eat right, but now I don’t think I’ll bother.

Ouch, man! Just tell them where you buried the treasure, and maybe they’ll spare you the worst of it.

Seriously, though, good luck. I’m in awe of your ability to retain your sense of humor about this.

I really hope you mean Diazepam 10 mg tablets because 200 mg will probably kill you, but at least then you will be able to endure the procedure pain-free.

-foxy

I do indeed mean 10 mg; I guess the 100 was just wishful thinking.

Are you telling me that you’re not going to be fully sedated?

::: stands and salutes LouisB :::

You are, indeed, the man.

I am torn between wincing in sympathy at the very thought, and giggling absurdly at the idea of being able to tell your friends with a serious and somber face, “I had to get my prostate altered by a tuna.”

For now, I think I will just firmly cross my legs, put on a painful grimace, and say “cattle prod goes where??

I’m so glad I’m a girl… childbirth ain’t nuthin’…

See, that’s why I won’t go for a checkup. They’ll come up with some crap like that.

Best of luck to you. Let us chicken-hearted ones know how it went.

Well, in one hour I get to take the pills mentioned earlier along with a 500 mg Levaquin tablet. I also have to force myself to eat something, probably a piece of bread or two. And then I’ll be off to see the damn wizard.

Give 'em hell, Lou! :slight_smile:

Oh man, Og have mercy on you.
If on my way out of work I hear a distant cry of pain I know it comes from Seminole, Florida.

Sorry to hear your news! Good luck. Sending healing thoughts your way.

OUCH. That sounds horrible. Hope it’s not too bad…

Well, you can’t tuna fish, but apparently you can tuna prostate. Whoda thunkit.

I made one mistake concerning the cattle prod; it is used only as a diagnostic tool. Sitting here hurts too much and I’m nauseous; more later.

{{{LouisB}}}

Yes, I can see how that would happen.

The RF (Radio Frequency) device that does the actual repair job is inserted along with the Fiber Optic Video Camera right down a particularly sensitive place which had, in the interest of humanity, been filled with a local anesthetic.* Unfortunately there is no numbing mechanism that can be used before the local is applied. I can only describe that experience as being uncomfortable; in fact, it hurt like hell. I was asked if I wanted to watch on the monitor; I replied that I would prefer to die as soon as possible. I also suggested that a rubber hammer applied to the back of my head would be preferable to the local anesthetic that was used. After the hilarity died down, the process began: as I knew it would, the RF device got REALLY HOT and very painful. What I hadn’t anticipated was that the initial RF device would have to be removed after the limits of its diameter had been burned away. The removal was nothing compared to the introduction of a LARGER RF device along with its subsequent removal and the introduction of an EVEN LARGER RF device and its subsequent removal. And, of course, both of those devices got REALLY HOT during their use. At present, I am wearing a catheter that feels as if it is at least an inch in diameter. I feel utterly defiled and completely violated. The catheter will be removed tomorrow morning and I imagine that process will be as enjoyable as the insertion.

I managed to maintain my composure during the process; I didn’t scream, I didn’t cry, and I didn’t threaten anyone but I sure as hell didn’t enjoy myself, either.

Now, six hours later, the pain is bearable; in fact it is mostly just uncomfortable. I give a lot of credit to the Hydrocodone for that; as the effects of it wear off, the discomfort goes back to the pain level. Marcie has the pills and due to my addiction problem she doles them out strictly on schedule. I’ve tried to explain that I can feel the effectivity waning and that maybe the good should overlap the bad but to no avail.

Anyway, I will survive and everything will get better but I will not say that it wasn’t as bad an experience as I expected: It was at least as bad as I expected and maybe a touch worse.

Thanks for the good wishes I received; I really love the SDMB.

*This operation was performed by a very attractive young lady who is studying to become a Physicians Assistant. As far as feeling sexually attracted to her, which I ordinarily might have been, she might as well have been King Kong. That should give the guys, at least, some notion of the discomfort.

I’m pretty stoic most of the time. Few things make my penis want to desperately climb up inside my abdomen.

This is one of them. In fact, it’s trying to get my stomach to get the hell out of the way so it can hide out behind my ribcage.

You have my deepest sympathies. And hydrocodone, which is probably the more effective of the two. Kudos on the brave face, though. I don’t think anyone could expect you to man up in the face of increasingly large objects being shoved repeatedly and forcibly down your urethra, so you are an inspiration, sir. No need to bow, under the circumstances.

And finally, this vaguely reminds me of this Family Guy bit.

Just a word of warning that you probably don’t even need but I’m going to give it to you anyway:

After I had a kidney stone removed, they told me I could leave as soon as I could urinate. I said, “Hell, that’s one of the things I’m really good at,” and went into the can to cut a whiz.

Y’see, they hadn’t told me what it was going to feel like.

After that, whenever I attempted a hydraulic offload, I made sure to operate at the lowest psi possible.

Good luck, dude.