The most unwrinkled bladder in the west...

Well I did it… Yesterday I had the Botox injected into my bladder. It was quite the day, not at all what I expected.

I set the alarm the night before but kept saying it was pointless because Titus was going to wake up before then anyway. I took some pretty strong meds to ease the pain and help me sleep before the big day so when Titus woke up an hour after I fell asleep I was useless. I called my Mom on my cell phone and some how managed to communicate that Titus was awake and I… was not. She came into our room and must have realized how drugged I was so she took the monitor after the got Titus back to sleep.

Next thing I knew she and Titus were in our room in the daylight and it was 6:30… the time we were suppose to be leaving (turns out I said it for 5:45 PM… oops). I quickly nursed Titus then showered… accidentally shampooing my hair twice and forgetting conditioner. I threw on some clothes while I glared jealously at Zach eating cereal. I, of course, couldn’t eat before the procedure.

We got in the car and mapped out the best way to miss traffic and I was feeling a little apprehensive when Zach reassured me, “babe, I’m a do-er!” Sure enough… we got to the hospital with one minute to spare!

I got all settled in with my IV and every thing was ready to go! The pleasant anesthesiologist gave me some lovely drugs and the last thing I remember I was laying on a hard bed shivering in the big, white operating room.

The next thing I knew I was sobbing because the pain was so intense. I was in the recovery room surrounded by other post-op patients and nurses. There was a nurse perched on a stool next to me and quickly injected fentanyl into my IV… the pain eased but was still an 8 or 9. She had to give me two more doses before I finally stopped crying and could breathe normally. My throat hurt from the tube that was down it during surgery, I was itchy from head to toe, my bladder ached, and worst of all… my urethra burned so bad. It hurt to have any weight on it or even my legs closed together.

Finally my favorite nurse Tom came and moved me to Day Surgery where I would spend the rest of my time at the hospital. We picked up Zach on the way and he squeezed my hand which made things seem a bit easier. Tom gave me some toast, benadryl for the itching, and vicodin for the pain. I was feeling pretty good and Zach told me he had talked to the doctor who said it went well and they actually stretched my bladder because it was only half the size as it should have been.

I knew it was coming… my bladder was full from all the IV fluids and the water I had drunk for my scratchy throat. I had to go to the bathroom. I cautiously sat down on the toilet and the pain ripped through my body as the bloody urine drained from my body. I started crying again and my body was so tense but I still managed to empty my bladder.

Tom directed me to a reclining chair where I had to tilt my bottom to the side so no pressure was on my sad urethra and he gave me a half a dose of fentanyl. After a while all the pain meds kicked in and I slipped in and out of pain.

After about an hour my bladder refilled with IV fluids and I had to empty it again. Zach carried my IV bags while I held my gown shut and gloomily shuffled to the bathroom. Once again the pain was extreme… No matter what I did the pee just kept coming until my bladder was satisfied that it was empty enough.

My pal Tom was on standby with the rest of the drugs and I told him I was ready to go while the pain meds were working. So I quickly (as quickly as you can that loaded with drugs) dressed in my hospital issued underwear and clothes while Zach signed all the release forms. He left to bring the car up while Tom drove my wheelchair to the exit. We loaded up and were on our way. I fell asleep after we argued about which way to take home and didn’t wake up until we were pulling into the neighborhood.

I got home, got straight into bed and slept for a few more hours. When I woke up the familiar fullness was telling me what I had to do again… I waddled to the bathroom (trying not to let my legs touch my sensitive areas) and sat begrudgingly on the toilet doing the same old song and dance. This time was a little bit easier because I got to get in the shower to ease the pain right after.

The rest of the night I watched the clock waiting for time to take more meds like a bird watcher wanting to see a rare species. I went to bed around 10 but spent more time reading The Hunger Games than actually sleeping. (I know… I’m just now reading it… so un-hip.)

My bladder is so sore from all the shenanigans of stretching and injecting it. My urethra feels like they used a blade rather than a stealthy scope. The pain hasn’t eased up at all and I am taking vicodin on the hour, every 4 hours. I’m sleeping on and off, only eating when I have to eat with the medicine so I don’t vomit, and I’m either laying with a heating pad delicately placed or sitting on my side in the shower.

They said we won’t know if it helped or not OR if it caused retention or not for at least a week… Zach picked up a nice supply of self catheters just in case. Hopefully the pain and soreness from the procedure eases soon and the benefits start at the earliest possible moment.

I promised when I started this blog I would be honest and 100% me… so I hope this wasn’t way too much for some of you. My aunt Claudia specifically… she doesn’t like details…

When I was researching Botox for IC I couldn’t find any thing about the procedure so I hope this enlightens some of my fellow IC patients who are contemplating this. I don’t want to scare you, just inform you. I am actually feeling pretty hopeful that it will help and if not, I will still be glad I did it because it’s better than always wondering if it would have done the trick!