March 13, 2005

Dreaming of Tents.

It’s my third day of recovery from my surgery. I feel like I was whipped in and out of the hospital so fast on Friday that I include it in the number of recovery days. I wish I could say that I feel great and everything is coming along wonderfully, but I don’t really feel that way. I am slowly losing my mind.

For the faint of heart, you may wish to skip the rest of this entry and wait until my next witty dialog before reading my blog again. What follows is a frank discussion of a personal topic. You’ve been warned.

I don’t think my urologist took into account that I am a horny little bastard. I’m not experiencing any pain from the surgery. My urine is clear, as it should be. It’s been eight hours since my last pain pill (which usually last four to six) and I feel like I could go a couple of hours before taking one again. But I do have one remaining problem. I can’t sleep. When I sleep, I dream and when I dream, I get erections, and having an erection with a catheter has got to be one of the most painful experiences I can imagine. So I’m dogged tired and when my mind tries to give me sweet dreams I feel like I’m being tortured.

While I was in the recovery room, the doctor met with Earl to discuss post-op stuff. Knowing Earl like I do, he was very thorough and asked many questions. One of the questions he asked was about erections. The doctor said that my body would sense that something is different down there and when I started to feel pain, the erection process would come to a halt and I wouldn’t have difficulty with that. Problem is, I’ve always felt pain down there. Peeing or otherwise, I’ve always felt a little pain and its never slowed me down. So much for that theory.

I don’t know if it’s suppose to be like this or not. Everything feels fine down there, except when I’m trying to sleep. I don’t know how in the world I am suppose to keep this catheter in me for two more weeks, I’ll pass out from exhaustion long before that.

I’m going to call the doctor tomorrow and see if there’s another course of action that I can take. It probably won’t do any good, but maybe it’ll make me feel less miserable.