I am not sure how appropriate this post will be
Feel free to stop reading at any time.
Men over a certain age have issues with a little something called a prostate.
Frequently, a test called a PSA, is used to measure prostate health. I get tested regularly for a reason.
3 years ago my PSA was 3.4, then it went to 3.9 then to 4.8. At that point, it was decided to see a urologist, who went with twice a year testing. 5.5, 5.4, 5.5....numbers were holding steady.
Then .....6.9. Concern was raised. Options discussed. The doctor's preferred option was to biopsy the prostate. My option was to not do anything and let nature take its course. After all, I'm 72.
But the doctor's arguments outweighed my fears.
I told him I did not like needles, any kind of procedures, or invasive issues of any kind.
No problem, he told me. Biopsy is relatively simple. WE INSERT A 5 INCH DIAMETER CAMERA IN YOUR ANUS AND TAKE PICTURES. THEN WE JAB THE SUCKER 10 TO 15 TIMES TAKING SAMPLES.
Luckily, I exaggerate. It was not 5 inches, only 4 and a half.
Well, I said, if that is what needs to be done. Can you do it at the hospital in DeKalb?
HOSPITAL? WE DON'T NEED NO SINKIN HOSPITAL! WE DO IT HERE IN THE OFFICE.
Surprised, I asked about the anesthesia that puts me into a slightly altered state, like a lite sleep.
ANESTHESIA? WE DON'T NEED NO STINKIN ANESTHESIA. WE ONLY SHOOT YOUR PROSTRATE FULL OF LIDOCAINE AND TAKE OUR SAMPLES.
After recovering from my momentary swoon, I agreed to the procedure.
Then he spoke the words I have been dreading, frightened by, and which have now caused me to lose sleep for three weeks.
YOU MUST GIVE YOURSELF AN ENEMA 30 MINUTES BEFORE COMING HERE.
I pointed out two things. One, I live an hour a way and 30 minutes would mean I would be shitting in the car. Second, I don't give myself enemas.
Well, it turns out a lot of people I asked would not give me an enama either.
That's why I was mainting a dog position on the bathroom floor at 6:15. I could not maintain my balance and find the spot, if you catch me drift. So I went to the next example, on my side but it turns out my arms are too freaking short to find the target.
If you have come in our bathroom at 6:45 this morning, you would have seen a buff naked 72 year old with his bare ass on the floor, left leg on the counter and a clear view of the planet Uranus.
But by golly, that enema was administered. All by myself.
And don't believe the label when it says expect results in 1 to five minutes.....it worked damn fast.
Making a long story shorter, Emily drove me to Sandwich, nice nurse Edith had me undress (after 2 more trips to the bathroom), the good doctor inserted his probe, numbed the prostrate, did an ultrasound, and took 10 samples, which are now on the way to being analyzed.
I am not to do anything for the next four days. No lifting, no exercising, just resting.
Lanet is coming some days, Emily is coming some days, and Emily is covering nights, at least for tonight.
The good doctor recognized my anxiety and prescribed a valium, which I took on the way there. On the way home, Emily detoured through DeKalb and we stopped at Starbucks.
I came home, fell asleep in the chair while Emily took Jackie to an eye doctor appointment.
When they came back, I asked Emily how we got home. I vaguely remember Starbucks, and I don't remember drinking my coffee, but I did.
Since the doctor said alcohol was ok and I had no food or drink restrictions, I have opted for a ginger ale....with a liberal dose of whiskey.
I do anticipate a good night's sleep.
Peace and Love
No comments:
Post a Comment