Logistics...

 

There is a tube.  I read that someone said, "What a convenience: you don't have to get up in the middle of the night to pee several times."  That is stretching to find a bright side, but I really didn't have much of a problem with middle of the night bathroom visits.  Some guys with prostate issues do have that problem.

For more detail than anyone wants: with a tube there is a bag.  The bag holds your urine.  Being as delicate as I can, you are constantly making urine.  For the logistics, you have the small size bag that can handle a couple hours of urine production; it straps to your leg.  And then there is the family fun size bag that allows you to make it through the night... I think it is around 5 gallons.  Yes, I'm kidding.  It only feels like 5 gallons.  You notice as you are schlepping it around.  It has an L-bracket of sorts that is at the top of the bag that allows you to hang it conveniently on absolutely nothing.  We have drawers under our bed, and Joan found a way to position one of those drawers so the big bag (which is probably a quart and a half or so) can hang on the edge of the drawer.  That becomes a limiting factor to being able to turn while in bed, but the small bag wouldn't make it through the night.

I shuffled around this morning, with the big bag on the waistband of my lounge shorts, doing my morning routine, while Joan got a bit more sleep.  It pulls the shorts down and as an added bonus: the longer length of the tube on the big bag catches on Rufus's tail as he circles my ankles, waiting for his breakfast.

Another thing that is very apparent is the liberal use of the word "penis."  I prefer the medically correct terms Willy or Johnson, but I am looking forward to not having a discussion about how my penis is doing.  Several times a day.  It needs to have an antibacterial ointment applied, thanks to Mr Tube.

I had to laugh when I was in the hospital and the nurse asked Joan if it was OK to apply the ointment... I said, "Of the three of us here, you are certainly the best qualified."  Later, when she was showing a younger nurse what was necessary, the younger one said, "Well, it is just right out there, isn't it?"  

Breakfast and another shower this morning makes me feel like a new man.  With bags.  At this point, taking a shower leaves me tuckered out, but certainly better than not taking a shower.  The meds have messed with my nerve endings, and I don't have much feeling in my fingertips (not good for a guitar player), and extra sensitive feelings in my toes.  It hasn't affected my dancing, however - I still can't dance for shit.

The goal for today: less screaming like a little girl when I cough.

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I got outside for a short walk today; 55º with a cold north wind.  I was wearing my sporty bag with lounge shorts and a sweatshirt.  In hindsight, I should have put on a coat; because, even through my hind was not in sight, there was plenty of wind to blow up my shorts.  It felt good to get outside, but not fun to stay outside; I have become less tolerant to hot or cold weather.  Nice change of scenery, though, and something different from making laps of our small house.

The forecast is for continued cool tomorrow, with rain.  I figured today was my best shot at some fresh air.  Joan took Rufus out for some fresh air, as well.  His routine has been altered this week.  Usually, he and I walk together.