Hell cath not fury like an IC patient scorned

I don't know where I left off on my other blogs so I'm going to quickly summarize the last month or so.

December 30th I had my interstims removed and had a cystoscopy with hydrodistention and Botox.

I have been in full on retention ever since then.

I've been to the ER 5 times since then.

I've had 4 Foley catheters since then.

I've self-cathed like 5 times since then.

I've taken almost 100 dilaudid since then.

I've only left the house twice to go some where other than a hospital since then.

I've been barely eating so I have lost 7 lbs since then.

I haven't peed on my own once since then.

Tuesday I went to my dear urologist (I don't care where you live, if you have IC get on a plane and come to Seattle to see Dr. Karny Jacoby) where they filled my bladder with water using the catheter I had in at the time. Then I sat on the toilet for a while until I accepted it wasn't going to empty.

But my beloved doctor didn't want to put in another foley catheter because of the horrible UTI I haven't been able to shake.

So I was given a quick review on how to self cath, a bunch of speedicaths and lidocaine then I was sent on my way.

This is a Speedicath Catheter. Its about the length of my palm. Looks like a tube of lip gloss. 

Then you twist and pull to open the seal and it looks like this

Then you rock it a bit until the cath comes out. 

This is the actual catheter, it is pre-lubricated and sterile.
So you just stick that tube part in your urethra until the urine starts to drain out.  

There is a little vent on the bottom where the urine comes out.

Then you use put the lid back on and toss it! 

They are really very handy and easy to use! To us ladies with IC any catheter is like pure torture but these aren't horrible. So when I got home and my bladder was so full it felt like it would burst I cathed myself. It definitely hurt and tears were shed but after drenching my urethra in lidocaine and taking pain meds it was tolerable.

Then before I knew it my bladder was full again and I followed the same instructions. I got the cath in with no problem, it drained my bladder, but then all of a sudden something happened and I could not get the catheter out.

Every time I tugged it or moved it at all the pain rippled through me. I was literally yelping and screaming in pain. My husband came in and tried to calm me down but I just cried hysterically saying "I can't do it, I can't do it!"

I tried different angles and positions but no matter what I did the pain exploded when I pulled with any amount of pressure.

I got in the shower, because that's what I do when I don't know what else to do, but even that didn't relax my muscles or bladder enough to release the catheter.

Finally I just realized I couldn't have a catheter hanging of me much longer and I literally just took a deep breath and yanked.

Yanked.

It felt like shredding. Like it was actually a pickaxe that I was pulling out of me. It dragged rubble and flesh out with it.

Sorry. That was grotesque but imagine feeling it...

After I finally got it out, I laid in bed shivering, crying, vowing I would never do that again. I took lots of medicine and slept fitfully all night long from the pain.

Problem though... I woke up the next morning with a full bladder.

I begged and pleaded while I sat on the toilet but it wouldn't release a single drip.

So I had to torture myself in the same way... Except it was even worse because of the trauma I had done to myself the night before. This time after I yanked the speedi-cath out it was bloody and bits of bladder were caught on the little eyelet that the urine drains of. (Later after talking to my doctor she said that your bladder naturally collapses when it's empty so it sounds like it was trying to collapse even with the catheter in there. Yikes.)

I shivered and cried while I laid in bed trying to figure out what to do. My doctor didn't want me to have another Foley catheter but I clearly couldn't self cath. My doctor and her staff were all out of the office for a conference so I decided to go to the ER at the hospital that she works out of in the hope that she would get my messages and be able to come there.

After my dear cousin dropping everything and driving 3 hours round trip and my husband getting off work early I realized that plan wasn't so good.

The ER doctor called and talk to one of my doctors partners (who doesn't work with IC patients and probably specializes in erectile dysfunction or something) who kind of balked that I was at the ER for "a chronic condition" so the ER doctor ordered me a dilaudid pill (the exact same thing that I had a whole bottle of in the car) then told the nurse to go ahead and put in a Foley catheter...

Right before jamming a tube about the width of a pencil up my urethra she noted how bloody, raw and irritated it was.

Then they sent me home as soon as I stopped crying.

It wasn't the ER doctor or nurses faults at all... But I don't know who might read this so I won't say names but let's just say... There is a "urologist" in the greater Seattle area that needs to watch his back...

Anyway, after about 5 minutes into the drive home I lost it again, I was sure I couldn't keep this catheter in so we stopped at another ER on the way home.

Another bad idea.

Before I even saw a doctor or a nurse the social worker came in because my name pinged as an ER hopper or drug seeker since I have been to so many recently...

After explaining the whole story she actually ended up being an awesome advocate for me but unfortunately there was just nothing they could do for me without my urologists consent.

So they sent me home to suffer until Friday when my doctor would be back in the office.

Since I got home from that ER tour I've been in bed and taking dilaudid every 4 hours just to keep the pain below a 10. I tried a new lidocaine cream but some yahoo down at the factory thought it was a grand idea to put peppermint in it. So not only did it burn from it getting in all the irritated areas but my lady bits smell like a candy cane!

My dear Dr. Jacoby called me Friday morning and she decided the best thing to do is to put in a suprapubic catheter on Tuesday.

Which is a catheter that bypasses the urethra all together and goes out from the bladder through and out an incision on my lower abdomen.

So it's another surgery, just a couple days short of a month after the last one bringing my total to 27, but it shouldn't be too big of a deal.

Well... Honestly, I don't know much about the whole procedure but I'm looking forward to letting my poor urethra rest for a while.

The best thing is, I can clamp the cath tube and allow my bladder to fill so I can try to void on my own every so often. Then as soon as things are up and running again I can remove it and get back to "normal" but as of now the plan is to leave it in until I start cyclosporine!

Anyway... This is a lot of information and it's kind of gory but I figured some people might be wondering what all has been going on lately.

We have no idea why I'm suddenly having such intense retention. It could be from removing the interstims I've had the last 10 years, from all the trauma of numerous catheters, the never ending UTI or maybe the Botox has built up over time.

I'm praying this is short lived and that the suprapubic catheter will be a good solution until the retention let's up and that the surgery will be quick and easy!

Thanks for caring, reading, loving and praying.

I'm so blessed to have so many people on my side during this unbelievably difficult and PAINFUL time! 

This is a prayer shawl that hand knitted and prayed over, It makes me so comforted and warm inside and out!

Botox 101

Lately a lot of people have been asking about the relatively new treatments using Botox for interstitial cystitis. I'm sure there are lots of people out there who have success with it but a sweet IC friend and I have been two of the biggest Botox advocates. 

So we are both frequently asked questions and are sharing our input about the whole procedure, side effects, outcome, ect. Rather than typing this a million times I finally decided to write a blog with as much info about it I know! 

*Pause*

If you haven't yet go read: 

www.how-ic-it.blogspot.com/2012/06/most-unwrinkled-bladder-in-west.html

and 

www.how-ic-it.blogspot.com/2014/01/diary-of-mad-ic-patient.html 

Did you read them? Ok good, moving on.

First and foremost... Botox in your bladder is NOT for pain. It is for overactive bladder symptoms. Period. I know pain is the hardest to treat of all the IC symptoms and you're desperate but unfortunately this isn't going to work. 

So, Here goes a totally unmedical and potentially inaccurate explanation of how Botox works.

Okay so think about people you see on tv that have clearly had too much Botox in their face. It looks frozen in one expression. (Have you seen Meg Ryan lately? She's always been one of my faves but it's a real pity what she's done to her face...)

Basically what I think the Botox does is freezes the bladder. So that if you get the right dose for your body it will tighten up and strengthen a bladder that is otherwise weak and loose. Therefore reducing frequency, urgency and incontinence. 

Of course with that is the risk of getting too much Botox and your bladder freezing too tight, making it hard or even impossible to void. 

As far as how the procedure works, I'd think each doctor does it a little different but my awesome doctor, Dr. Karny Jacoby in the Seattle area, does it in a very "IC patient friendly" way. 

I go to the surgery center at the hospital, check in, get in full surgery mode: gown, nonslip socks, and hat. They get my IV started and I answer the same questions I've answered thousands of times... No I don't have any crowns, caps, or loose teeth. I don't smoke, drink or do recreational drugs. Ect, ect, ect. 

When we're all ready they wheel me into the OR, depending on the anesthesiologist they might give me some happy drugs on the way or they might make sure I'm on the table in the right spot before they send me to la la land. Then they use general anesthetic to put me out and get to work! 

Then my doc empties my bladder and sends a scope up there to see what's going on in there. She fills my bladder with water beyond it's measly capacity to attempt to stretch it (what's known as a hydrodistention), then if there's hunner's ulcers she cauterizes them, and she injects the 50 units of botox all over my bladder. (I'm not sure what order she does those things in.)

She may do other things (I'm thinking pre-teen sleepover after the first girl falls asleep... Bra in the freezer? Put whipped cream in hand and tickle with feather?) but next thing I know I wake up in the recovery room full of other people waking up from surgery... Not entirely unlike some syfy movie, what was that one called with Keanu? 

Usually I cry quite a bit here from the pain when I first wake up. They give me good drugs that make me fall back to sleep and then I wake up crying again. We do this several times until I eventually wake up and can speak and drink some water.

When I'm doing better they push my bed and me to "day surgery" and pick up my companion (usually my mom or hubby) for the day along the way. 

Some hilarious things have happened in that room and some horrible things too. I don't know if it depends on what drugs the anesthesiologist gives me or what but a few times I've been so weird and funny. One time I laughed hysterically that my favorite nurse Tom's name backwards was Mot. Oookay.

Other times I've had allergic reactions, most every time I have nausea and vomiting, and of course the dreaded first pee. 

The first pee after all that harassment to my bladder is rough. We have formed a strategy to give me a half dose of heavy duty IV meds, go pee torturously then they give me the rest of the meds right after.

I've had many strange things happen during the first pee... Once my pee was thick and black, my husband compared it to motor oil, after a time that Dr. Jacoby had to cauterize several hunner's ulcers. Most every time there's lots of blood. 

No matter the looks of it, it's always really painful the first time but each pee after that gets a tiny bit easier. 

There have been a couple times when I think my bladder is full and I try to go but nothing comes out. I get back to bed and rest while the fluids pouring into my IV fill my bladder and then I try again. Then I can usually get it out, bracing my sell against the pain.

Then I get into a recliner and (assuming hopefully that Tom is my nurse) eat some of the most delicious toast in the whole world. (I'm pretty sure Jesus has it for breakfast). If I can keep that and some water down then that's my ticket out of there! 

I clumsily get dressed in my cozy clothes I wore there, they unhook me from monitors and the IV then I'm outtie. My companion scampers off to pull the car up and the nurse wheels me to the exit. 

Depending again on the anesthesiologist, my post-op pain meds, and how long the whole recovery process takes I can be many degrees of drugged for the ride home. 

I'm always sleepy but sometimes I request a smoothie or shake for my scratchy throat and just take long blinks until we're home. Other times I sleep the whole way home. Sometimes it's a mixture of those two options. (One time we got pulled over for being in the carpool lane because the cop couldn't see me laying down. He told me to sit up and so now I have to rest sitting up like some kind of lazy night watchman.)

A tip: it hurts so bad to sit after all the damage to your urethra so bring soft pillows and blankets to alleviate some of the pressure for the ride home.

When I get home I always go straight to bed and sleep until it's time for more meds then I wake up, eat 4 crackers, take more meds and go back to sleep. Repeat for 24 hours. 

The first recovery was a solid week of excruciating pain and horror, I told my mom I would never ever do it again but after realizing what a huge difference it made I did and since then each treatment is easier and shorter. It's kind of like maintaining your yard. When you first move in you spend days making it perfect so that going forward you just have to maintain. After that you just mow and weed as needed verses renting giant machines to clear out major problems. (That was a weird analogy... Moving on.) 

The Botox takes a couple weeks to work but then it can last anywhere from 4-9 months. 

My biggest reason for trying it originally was because I had such bad incontinence, like not just a sneeze leak but a full on bladder emptying no matter where, when or what I was doing. 

I was willing to do anything to potentially help that symptom. Incontinence is one of the most life altering symptoms in my eyes, an adult diaper or pads built for these things don't even kind of hold the drenching pee and they irritate everything down there anyway. So when I'm flared and having lots of accidents, I just stay home and sit on pee pads that aren't much different than puppy training pads. 

But Botox was magic! It worked miracles for me! Like I went from my bladder totally emptying on it's own 1-2 times and leaking 5-6 times every day to never having any accidents at all. It has also helped with my urgency and frequency but I never really had those too bad. 

The first Botox treatment lasted about 6 months until I started having accidents again so we quickly scheduled another procedure and the next time it was 5 months. Since then we've been doing it every 4 months whether I need it or not. 

My first Botox was a year and a half ago and I have had 4 more since then. Each recovery time is shorter and easier... Except... The Botox procedure I had 2 and a half weeks ago, it has been the worst one yet. I ended up with full blown retention this round but I have a theory! 

Here it goes...

They gave me a spinal this time to alleviate some nausea (against my protest) so it took my body way longer to wake up. Right after surgery I couldn't go but the pain in my bladder was so intense that they did a bladder scan and I had over a liter of urine in there so they sent me home with a foley catheter (the kind with a bag). I had that for 4 days then removed it and was still in retention so I got another one. Then I got that one removed 4 days after that. I was able to void but right away I got a horrible uti from all the cath business. Then 5 days after that I was back in retention...  I was trying to self cath instead of getting another foley but the last time I did I went in too far and jabbed the top of my bladder... Not only was it self inflicting torture multiple times a day but I felt like I was doing more harm so I got another Foley catheter. 

 I'll have this one in 8 days total. Tuesday I'm going to my doctor and she's going to fill my bladder with water, remove the cath then see if I can empty my bladder on my own. 

If I lay super still in bed with my cath hooked to the bed frame and take pain medicine I barely notice it... But anytime I move, try to walk, empty it, or get off my med schedule... Sky rocket pain. So I'm just staying in bed... For 3 more days. 

Last night I attempted to go downstairs for dinner and ended up whimpering in bed with ice and meds then the pain pulled me out of sleep when those wore off. 

Anyway I think there's just been lots of trauma to my whole urinary tract the last almost 3 weeks and it's on strike. I'm really hoping it decides to get back to work real soon... 

So back to the Botox. Even if I have to have to cath for a month I would still do Botox again. It would at least be worth another try. 

It definitely has some potentially negative side effects but if you have any severe over active bladder symptoms it's totally worth trying at least once. 

A few notes: I've never been one to be able to handle getting cathed in any form but it's amazing what you'll do when you feel like if you don't drain your bladder the urine might start coming out of other orifices. 

Also, if you have IC- never, ever let any doctor do anything with a scope unless you're under general anesthesia. My doctor said with a regular patient that just has an over active bladder they would do this procedure in office with lidocaine but there's no way an IC patient could handle the pain. If the pain of the procedure is any worse than the pain when I wake up from it then I guarantee she is right! 

Okay! I think that's about it but any other questions, I'm an open book! Feel free to message me on my Facebook page, www.facebook.com/how.ic.it.by.deni

(Please don't sue me for any medical inaccuracies. I'm in no way a professional, I'm just sharing my experiences and opinions!) 

Wait. One more thing. I want to especially thank my Aunt Claudia, my Grandma, my Mom and of course Zach and Titus for helping me through these last few weeks of horror. With anything from phone conversations to emptying my cath bag to taking great care of Titus to just making me smile they remind me how blessed and loved I am, even when I feel useless and burdensome. I'm so lucky to have such a great recovery team, I have no idea what I would do without them! 

Snuggling these guys and watching movies makes being stuck in bed much better! 

A Picture is worth 1,225 words.

As I wrote in my last few blog this has been a really difficult recovery, my 26^th surgery and by far the hardest recovery. It has been just one complication after the next. Today yet another one came up, everyone told me to expect some UTI (urinary tract infection) symptoms for a while after getting the catheter removed because any time you have a foreign object in your body it will leave bacteria.

So I ignored all the clear signs of a UTI. Burning (which I always have), urgency (which I always have), frequency (which I sometimes have), feeling like I might just pee at any given time (what I like to consider “loose pee”), and of course my pee was dark, thick, cloudy, dare I say chunky without someone passing out, and most disgustingly rancid smelling.

Each day it progressed but it wasn’t until last night that I knew it was serious. I had tons of blood coming from somewhere down there and we all know it’s not from my womanly parts (considering I have a full hysterectomy 3 months ago). Then I felt feverish. I seriously considered going to the ER but honestly I was just too tired.

I woke up this morning and the bleeding had let up but the rest was still bad. I also felt really sick. I can’t even really explain it… I just felt sick. Sore, shivery, hot, tired, uncomfortable in my own skin… I knew I needed to get checked out soon. Considering my urologist is an hour and a half away I decided to just go to my local emergency room.

Nothing especially interesting happened there… My mom got chased down by the security guard because she was carrying Titus pretend dog kennel, I put on my hospital gown and Titus said “cool shirt momma”, they gave me toradol (even though I’m pretty sure I could find stronger drugs behind the bleachers at a jr. high), they gave me antibiotics via an IV that I (obviously) had an allergic reaction to, and was told by the nurse that the results of my urine test were the worst she had seen.

 Then they sent me home full of dilaudid (which I convinced the doctor to give me when I told him I had a whole bottle at home… then he probably called some local school principles and told them to be on the watch for me behind bleachers) and benadryl. I came home. Took my pants off, put ear plugs in and my eye mask on and slept. I was woken by a bouncing toddler stage whispering “mama sheeping, shhhh” when I pried my eye mask off he had the biggest smile and said “hi mama! Snuggle mama!”

That helped.

I took another dilaudid and that helped too.

So I was feeling semi okay for a couple hours then the pain just took over me again. I was sitting in my bed crying, rubbing my swollen belly that looks 5 months pregnant except it’s not... It’s just from my bladder full of infection and pain. My husband was snoring his face off, Parenthood was on pause and I cried. I don’t want to do this anymore. Seriously. I’m done.

Please don’t think this is a rare occurrence but it was an especially bad pity party… The whole shebang, metaphorical hats and streamers even.

I knew I had to deploy one of my “Deni’s 5 Ways to Leave a Pity Party”.

1. I pray.  (I plead God to just get me through this. I have accepted this is the life that was meant for me (for now) and it is coming as no surprise to Him but I’m sure it’s breaking His heart to watch me suffer.)

2. I try to distract myself. (Friends reruns, a phone call to my Grandma, pinterest, ice cream, pretty much anything not related to babies or pain.)

3. Snuggle with my husband and let him tell me it will be okay. (I don’t know why this works but it does, his arms are magical and forehead kisses are magical.) Or snuggle with my 2 year, kiss his head, stare at every single feature. (He sometimes can't contain his love, he says "love you mama" then squeezes me so tight and sometimes even bites me... Tiny Edward Cullen.)

4. Talk to my mom. (She lets me have a pity party (she brings the metaphorical cake) and cries right along with me.)

5. I look at pictures. (The topic of this blog if I ever get to my point.)

I post a lot of photos on facebook, instagram and even in this blog… I take thousands more than I post. (Yes, I know that’s hard to believe…) For me pictures aren’t about duck faces or looking double t hot but about capturing moments in my life that are easy to forget when the camera is off and I’m in bed for the 5^th day in a row and don’t even know what the weathers like or what food we have in the fridge. When I feel like I cannot do another day with this pain I look at these wonderful gems.

They are my most prized possessions, pictures from my childhood, with my family, with my friends, when Zach and I were dating, our wedding, my pregnancy, and of course Titus' entire life. I pick a random event or date and just peruse through them suddenly remembering things I would maybe have forgotten without these still shots of our lives.

I have to do it.

It reminds me I've gotten through hard times before and in spite of my health I have had, and continue to have, a wonderful life.

So yes, I take pictures of you while you’re carving your pumpkin, in your swimsuit floating at the lake, in 10 layers lying in the dirt cutting down a Christmas tree, trying to fly a kite, holding my son, or even take a selfie of you and me. It’s what I do. Deal with it.

I over share, I suck at keeping secrets, I’m a toucher, I am sarcastic, I tease, and I take pictures. It’s who I am, take it or leave it. Years from now I will look back and remember the time I over shared about something you would have been happy to not know, blabbed your secrets, touched you (not meaning that as creepy as it sounds), and sarcastically teased you while taking pictures and you will thank me for the reminder of that fun (sounds more awkward than fun perhaps) time. You’re welcome.

It will be filed under 2014, January, Deni being obnoxious.

I was sobbing as I started this blog, I intended it to be some deep portrayal of how I get through hardships by putting myself into better times through looking at fun old photos but you know me… I get easily distracted. That should go on my list too.

I swear those interstims and botox blogs are coming up real soon…

I just clicked random folders and picked any photo that captured a moment that I would like to jump into right now, I really have had a wonderful life! (It's 1:15 and I want to post this blog so I'm leaving the photos as they are... all haphazard and not in chronological order, forgive me!) 

MOPS

Today.

Yesterday.

The last 10 days.

These days have tried to break me.

I am trying to keep my eyes on God. Just like when I’m carsick, if I can focus on a stationary object it gets better. My life is a road trip and God is my Mt. Rainier.

But God never promised us that our lives would be easy. He told us He would be there for us, get us through these hard times, give us tools to fight our battles.

He has done that for me the last 10 days.

He has given me a community of women that I didn’t know 2 months ago. Literally, I did not know them. I probably walked by them Trick or Treating and had no idea the impact they would have on me.

I joined a MOPS (mothers of preschoolers) group in November and I went to one meeting and knew I was home. I was surrounded by women who knew exactly what I was going through and they cared about me already. They didn’t even know my last name.

Before our next meeting, 2 weeks later, I decided I didn’t want to take pain medicine because it makes me chatty and mushy… I wanted to be seen as this strong, normal Mom who got dressed every day, made breakfast for her kids, I wanted to say “oh man I can’t remember the last time I showered” like Moms seem to always say, I wanted to be sassy and funny.  I wanted to be me… without IC.

Sure enough after we had eaten our “breakfast” of cupcakes, cookies, and a piece of fruit, that we would never confess to our children about, we started on a craft making fun Christmas cards. I couldn’t do it. The pain was just too much it was making me run to the bathroom to vomit.

Now I’m going through all of this and these women who don’t know my husband’s name or where I grew up or that coral is my favorite color are tucking me under their wings. I’m overwhelmed. I’m in awe of God’s plans and love for me… He gave me MOPS. He gave me these women just for these weeks. Some I will probably never really know and some I will probably be weeping with as our kids graduate high school together.

I don’t have to act like I’ve got this Mom thing down because none of us do. I have realized every single woman in that room has issues. Medical, financial, marital, whatever… But we are all Moms and in this community, that I feel rooted in even after just 1 ½ visits, we do whatever we can to help other Moms get through this stage of life that is so fleeting and so treasured but so hard.

Thank you heavenly father for this group of women you have given to me. Please help me to be a part of this group so that I can help make a difference in another Mom’s life like they have for me. Amen.

Diary of a mad IC patient.

I have so much to say… I don’t even know where to start. I keep planning on writing blogs that are going to be so helpful for my IC sisters but then this crazy stuff happens and I just have to tell you all that is going on. I can’t help it. I’m a blogger now, it’s what I do. So as a compromise to myself I thought I would write a quick little update (as I’m rereading this I realize it is not quick or little, terribly sorry) on all that’s going on for my dear friends and family who are just seeing my random venting on facebook but aren’t entirely sure all that’s going on. Then I swear I will write a helpful, positive blog. Or maybe just a helpful blog. Okay maybe I will just write a blog. We’ll see.

Over the last few years my interstims have really been giving me the business… After I had Titus they just wouldn’t stay put from all the weight fluctuations, lifting, and general lack of care for my own body. So for the last year and a half both of my interstims have been off.

I picture them as junky, dead cars parked in my lawn. Except they’re ridiculously expensive, medical machinery and they’re in my lower back.

So I wanted them out.

I was also due for my Cystoscopy with hydrodistention and botox that I get every 4 months so I figured what the heck! Let’s just do them at the same time while I’m under general anesthesia anyway.

Bad idea. One of my worst actually. And I’ve had some bad ideas… Okay, I was just trying to think of an example of one of my bad ideas and I literally couldn’t think of any… I texted my dear sister who usually happily points out these things but she couldn’t think of any. She said: “I would say you think too much to have a bad idea.” So I of course I took that a compliment but then she followed it up with, “but sometimes you think too much to not even let yourself have a good idea in case it turns into a bad idea.” Jeny the Llama… (Did anyone get that? Like Dalai Lama… because it was deep… But Llama because they’re funny and ironically she wrote a very catchy tune about a llama once. We also really like the Emperor’s New Groove that featured a Llama. What was I saying?)

Moving on.

But this time I had a really bad idea… apparently I didn’t do enough over thinking…  

It all started when some whippersnapper of an anesthesiologist decided that my severe allergy of ALL anti nausea drugs was not accurate and decided to give me some new medication that I had never heard of despite my concern. THEN she proceeded to tell me she was going to do a spinal instead of general anesthetic. This was my 5^th botox surgery and my 13^th surgery on my interstims. So I kind of knew what I was talking about when I told her I wasn’t comfortable with that. Once again I protested and expressed my concern and she was basically like, “fine we’ll do the general but have fun throwing up after!”

Meanwhile the OR is prepped and my doctor is in there waiting for me so everyone was rushing this whole conversation so finally I just said “fine but just know that I am anxious. I have had 26 surgeries and I never get anxious before surgery anymore but now I’m anxious.” Her answer to that was to give 4 times the amount of Versed (which is like hardcore valium).

Nighty night Deni.

Then there was some good news.

I woke up from surgery and was not nauseous and had zero pain. I was feeling real cocky about the whole thing and told the nurse in the recovery room I was feeling great so he should send me to post-op and get me some Tom Toast. (My all time favorite nurse is Tom, he works in post-op and makes the most amazing toast. I would pay an exurbanite amount to have Tom live with me and make me toast as needed. Now that I think about it, it might be cheaper to just ask what kind of bread they buy…) Then all of a sudden the pain hit me like a tidal wave.

The nurse was literally on the phone with post-op telling them we were on our way and I said something like “oh weird it’s starting to hurt” then literally within a minute the pain was at a 10! So the nurse hung up the phone and hurriedly filled my IV with pain meds.

Eventually I got to post-op even though I still had tears streaming down my face from the pain. My body from the waist down was buzzing as it woke from the spinal and the pain continued to rip through me. They continued to give me meds but nothing was touching the crazy pain. My back had four big incisions, my bladder was sore from the stretching and injections and my urethra killed from the scope.

I was pretty drugged so I was slipping in and out of consciousness. I do know I ate some Tom Toast and was happy about that and my husband was by my side but that’s all I remember until I woke up suddenly announcing I had to pee!  So the nurse came and got my IV all untangled and I confidently stood up. Then I sat. My legs were noodles. Literally couldn’t put any weight on them at all.

I decided I didn’t really have to pee that bad.

I slept for a while but then I woke up and the pain of my bladder being full of urine after being stretched, poked and prodded was too much.  So with the help of a nurse and my husband I got to the toilet. I sat down with a sigh ready for the painful relief of emptying my sore bladder. But nothing happened…

I waited.

And waited.

But still not even a drip came out.

I sat on that toilet until I was catching my drugged self falling asleep.

The nurse did a bladder scan and found out I had over a liter of urine in my recently harassed bladder.

No wonder I was still in tears from the pain.

They consulted with my doctor and she said I needed to be admitted because she didn’t think I could control the pain at home and they would cath me until the retention let up.

I heard the word catheter and I was ready to make a break for it. Anyone who has IC knows the horror of catheters when you have IC. Pure hell.  I was especially nervous this time because I couldn’t lie on my back.  But my husband and the hard working nurse worked together to get the catheter in while I was on my side. I believe my husband held a flashlight… Thankfully after all the meds they’d been pumping into my IV it didn’t hurt as bad as it has other times.

Then a new nurse came on duty. She was super sweet but for whatever reason she didn’t want me to have to spend the night at the hospital… Which I appreciate but now looking back I think it would have been best for me to stay.

Instead I went home with a foley catheter, the kind that has the bag attached, then they loaded me in my husband’s tiny car and we started our hour and a half trek home. I slept on and off and was always disappointed when I opened my eyes and we were still far from home.

I’m sure a lot of other things happened and my husband could probably fill you in on a lot more but that’s all I remember. I do know that my doctor said the actually surgery went well, I did have some hunners ulcers which she cauterized and it took quite a bit of work to pry the interstims and all of the leads out of my body after all these years.

Then I slept for 2 days. Seriously. I ate crackers every time I woke up to take meds, my husband emptied my catheter bag, and I snuggled with my son a couple times but other than that I slept.

Then 3 days after my surgery my husband removed the catheter as the doctor had directed. It hurt so, so bad. I can’t even tell you how bad. Six hours later I still had only released a few dribbles but it looked like there was more blood than pee. I was still fully in retention. Then my friend called me and told me to put clothes on because she was taking me to my doctor.

They ending up having to put in another catheter.

For whatever reason that catheter hurt from the very beginning, they think it’s because I had already had the trauma from the surgery, the first cath, and the removal but either way it hurt so bad. I couldn’t move without the pain exploding.

So the next day I went to the local ER. There was nothing they could really do except give me a shot of dilaudid to try to get out of the pain cycle.

Any amount of movement moved my catheter and hurt so bad so I safety pinned the cath bag to the side of my bed and I just stayed there. I felt like a prisoner chained to a bed.

I almost made it to the suggested 5 days but the pain was just too much so 4 days after I got the second catheter my husband removed it. Once again blinding pain!

BUT! Five hours after he removed it I was able to pee!!! Hooray! I was more excited that when my son peed on the toilet for the first time.

The pain of peeing after all that trauma to my urethra and bladder was indescribable. It made me shiver and instantly brought tears to my eyes but I think those tears were 90% caused by pain and 10% relief. I was so very glad to get that catheter out of me. 

The next day I woke up still in unbelievable pain and with a horrible cold. My throat killed so I looked in there and my mouth and throat were a concerning red color and covered in sores. Awesome. I couldn’t handle that one last thing so I went to my primary care and found out I had some weird virus that causes ulcers in your throat. Sure. Why not. The doctor informed me they were very painful. Gee thanks, I hadn't noticed. They hurt and it was frustrating but after the week I had leading up to this these throat ulcers felt like fluttering fairy wings.

So that’s been my week.

Oh and… The day after my surgery my Dad got admitted into the hospital with Pneumonia and was there for 2 days. Then when they got home my Mom caught the horrible cold that had started my Dad’s Pneumonia. Then I caught it and for whatever reason it presented itself for me as the dumb ulcers. Now my husband has them. I swear we weren’t playing tonsil hockey (is that seriously a saying? That is so dumb. I take it back.) but I may have used his toothbrush…

Add some drama, pain, heavy medication, a two year old, a holiday, the end of the holidays and general frustration.

It hasn’t been a great week in fact I would easily say it’s on the list of top 10 worst weeks and fairly high on the list too… But seriously it hasn’t been all bad (I’m telling this to myself more than you) some awesome friends have been bringing us dinners, entertainment and smiles amongst the hardships. It has forced us to stick together and just do what we can. Plus I got to catch up on some reading…

I’m really hoping the botox and interstim removals really do help my pain, symptoms and quality of life. PLUS! I’m hoping having those dang boxes out of my back will allow me to wear my super cute new jeans!

Sorry this is so jumbled and my ramblings are so random but if you’ve read any of my blogs you know to expect me to just write because that’s what I need to do.  

Now you’re really excited for my next totally helpful and totally unofficially and inaccurate blog! I really should have gone in to marketing… Thanks for reading my ramblings. Maybe I should get a diary instead...