Misadventures and Munchies

A fact of life with catheters is urinary tract infections will be common.  Generally not major, often not symptomatic in my case, but kind of a pain because they mean you regularly have to be on antibiotics (with their side effects) and regularly have to get your catheter changed out.  In a world full of human error, this means opportunities for humor lurk around every corner.  One night last week I had to have my catheter changed, and the nurse overseeing the installation was so smooth at keeping me chatting and distracted that I didn't even notice the usually somewhat uncomfortable insertion, so I complimented her on her skillful diversions and thanked her and the aide who helped, and went happily to sleep.  

When another aide came to check my blood sugar at 3am as usual, she noticed that my bag wasn't filling up, and mentioned it to a nurse.  At 6am, the next blood sugar check, they made a point to check the catheter bag again, and it was still dry.  That was a red flag, so they woke me up again (I barely wake up for the sugar pokes, and immediately go back to sleep):

Nurse:  "Your catheter bag is empty."

Me, mumbling sleepily:  "Okay, probably need to run the hose down my leg...so gravity...it doesn't drain good...when it's not downhill...and stuff..."

Nurse, in a you're-not-hearing-me tone:  "No, the bag is bone dry, like it's brand new."  The aide helps move the tube down my leg and puts the bed in a feet downhill position. 

Me, all confident:  "Well it is brand new, I just got it last night...it should start to drain now, with the downhill..."

Nurse, not buying it, especially as nothing is happening in the tube yet:  "If you've had it since last night and there's not a drop in there, it's not in there."

These words take a while to sink in to my sleep-hazed awareness, and when they do, I'm in denial.  "Noooo.... surely not... really??"  But it's immediately obvious as soon as they start checking the catheter placement that the wiggling of the tube is not wiggling in the right place.  That's right, my hoo-hah was stealing the show again.  That thing gets more action in this place than anyone has a right to!  I was cracking up with the nurses while they re-did it.  Honestly though, on a woman, you'd be surprised how easy it can be to miss on this one.  They often bring two kits when doing caths on women so that if they hit the wrong spot on the first try, they can leave it there for a second as a roadmap for round two.  It's not a big deal, but it did give me something to giggle and snicker about all day, and that's all I ask to get me through this. Well, almost all...

I have this theory that my karmic compensation for breaking my back (twice) and being nearly paralyzed by cancer all at once is that I occasionally get to spoil myself with goodies guilt-free.  It is a source of great pleasure that I can now indulge in a few dietary indiscretions without jacking my blood glucose sky-high.  So while most of the week I eat healthy foods - and thanks to decreased appetite and increasing pain in my esophagus, less and less of them - on the weekends hubby can bring me contraband:  fast food, or pastry, or ice cream, or the amazing scrumptious things people have baked for me, and I get to enjoy them but my blood sugar tests keep coming back in target or barely elevated.  Oh, and I'm not gaining any weight, either!  If this is what I get to make up for a little of what is going on lately, I'll take it.  And another Klondike bar, please.