Yeah, I can’t urinate on my own yet and that worries me; if I cant do it tomorrow, the catheter stays in. I doubt they can remove it anyway since it has to be made of really large barbed wire. Maybe the catheter makes it impossible to urinate on my own but it sometimes sure feels as if I can: but I can’t.
Yeah, my father has to have that done in a couple of weeks. He told me about it AFTER I whined for a half-hour about my colonoscopy. Good ol’ Dad – still makin’ me feel like a pussy after all these years!
I’ll take my measly little kidney stone and steal away quietly now.
I supposed I’d feel all self-righteous or something, after all our bits are on a hormonal rollercoaster for most of our lives and then there’s childbirth and all that, but I don’t. I just feel really really awed by your courage, I can’t believe you’re joking and doping already!
I can’t believe they didn’t warn you about the size switcheroo thing and you still maintained your composure. Good on you, man, I don’t even have a prostate and I want to go curl up and whimper just reading about it.
Did you at least get a lollipop out of it?
You know, I have a barbed wire collection, typically numerous examples of planter wire with some distinguishing characteristics. There’s even a couple of Hodge Spur Rowels on large and small strand variations and a ten point sheet metal spur rowel barb, Variation of Patent #367,398, Aug. 2, 1887 by Chester A. Hodge of Beloit, Wisc.
I don’t however have anything from a guy’s penis yet. If you’d like I’d be happy to display yours proudly on some weathered barnsiding in the guest bedroom. My guess is it’d be the only example of it’s kind on display outside of Kansas.
Like many, many things, I can’t help but think that this whole procedure was the brain-child of someone who was under the effects of large quanitities of alcohol.
A couple of urologists are sitting around a bar.
“You know what would hurt like a motherfucker?” says Urologist #1, after his fourth tequilla shot. “Having something really hot shoved up your wang.”
“DAMN, MAN! That’s barbaric! Where’s the waitress…she’s got a nice rack. Hey, baby, come here - we need another round. Want to see my BMW?”
“Ouch, bud - that would be harsh. Why not make the hot thing get bigger and bigger - sort of like a reamer? Yeah, she does have a nice rack - I wonder what her urethra’s like? Sweet, I bet.”
“Right, bud. So anyway - wait here’s the drinks. Salud! Here’s to kidney stones - daddy needs a new pair of shoes! Yeah, where were we - oh yeah, the Red Hot Poker of Death Up Your Wee Wee! All together now - BAND NAME! Damn, I’m drunk - who’s gonna call me a cab?”
Help me to understand why a severely painful procedure like this isn’t done under general anaesthetic.
I hope you feel better soon, LouisB.
I have a massive rant around here about that very subject, right after my uterine biopsy (for which I was told to take a Tylenol before I came in…those low-life fuckheads). WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH THE MEDICAL COMMUNITY??? LouisB, you are a brave soul. When you’re feeling well enough to kick the shit out of the doctor, let us know how that goes.
I guess I’m lucky. Instead of a TUNA, I got a laser procedure for the same problem. Just a single probe for the laser. The laser was applied to the left and right side of the urethra where it passed through the prostate. It felt rather warm, but not “red hot.” The probe itself didn’t get hot, so removing it was not a problem. I didn’t even think about Auric Goldfinger until the next day. 
The worst part was that they didn’t put in the catheter right away. I was sent to the top floor of the hospital. The nurses put me in a room with a pitcher of water. If I could pee on my own, they said, I could go home without a catheter. If not, they’d insert one. The problem was that, by the time they tried, the painkillers had worn off, and the insertion was…problematic. :eek: