define “tolerable discomfort”
Last week I had a cystoscopy because my primary doctor is concerned about
my PSA levels. It was my first, and I earnestly wish I had read the informative
pamphlet the urologist mailed me a bit more thoroughly. I didn’t really grasp
that he was going to stick a tube up my Willy Johnson (TM).
I did notice that the pamphlet stated “any discomfort should be tolerable”, but
I didn’t notice that it had been written by the Marquis de Sade.
Jude took time off from work to hold my hand during the procedure. I wish
she’d held both of the urologist’s hands, instead. Everything went as described
in the first four paragraphs, including me being “awake and aware of being
touched”.
It was actually a congenial atmosphere as they male nurse chatted and prepped
my packet. I was as relaxed as I’ll ever be under fluorescent lighting with my
pants off and my feet in stirrups. The pamphlet stressed the importance of that.
Then he walked in the room, and — with precious little foreplay — inserted the
aforementioned tube. I thought I was going to go through the fluorescent
lighting. The stirrups held me in place.
The urologist said “you may feel a slight sensation” as he started pushing the
tube toward my bladder. I wanted to be a brave Marine in front of my sweetie,
but all I could think about was why was the tube wrapped in sandpaper.
Another shove and I decided that he was using equipment originally used to
dig the Chunnel. The only thing that saved me was the distraction of watching
the jaunt through my johnson on a monitor. I think I saw some squiggly things
much like these from a Donald Fagen video. (“Yes, we’re gonna have a wingding.”)
**********************************************************************************
In the classic word of Rick Perry, “Oops!” I was working on this post for Friday
and accidentally pushed “Publish” when I meant to hit “Preview”. I’ll have Part
Two Friday.
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Anchor Struck 
Egads! Did you go to Dick Cheney Diagnostic Center? That should have been your first clue!
Now that you mention it, the urologist did have a Wyoming accent and kept saying that if I didn’t hold still, the terrorists win.
Now this is the first seldom heard discouraging word I’ve heard about the Canadian health system — and it’s enough to give me second thoughts. Here — at least based on my colonoscopy experience of some years ago, as well as several more recent “procedures,” they would have accompanied the tubing with excellent drugs that lead one to ask the doc when he’s going to get started after he’s already finished. I keep picturing James Bond in “Goldfinger” with the lazer headed toward his “packet”. So that’s a cystoscopy! Forget the Marines, man, you were James Bond and you won and you had a Bond girl (er woman) there with you the whole time, which even JB didn’t pull off. Congrats.
Apparently the system doesn’t cover the Xylocaine jelly. I wish I’d thought of the James Bond fantasy rather than the James Cameron one. Just what kind of drugs did you get with your colonoscopy?
Well it was in pill form and I didn’t ask any questions beyond making sure there would be something in pill form. Maybe valium or something along that line. They got me on the table…I remember looking around the room at a lot of gadgets…then the TV screen where they were going to watch the camera probe the bowels of the Raley..then asking the doc when he was going to get started, when he told me they were finished already.
Jude reminded me that I had a colonoscopy not too long ago. I must have gotten excellent drugs, as well. I don’t remember a thing about it.
Ooh … your mention of the sensation of sandpaper reminds me of giving birth. To a bowling ball covered with sandpaper. Why oh why do women put themselves through THAT torture more than once!!
The cystoscopy has made me much more sympathetic/empathetic for women regarding the invasive procedures and natal pain they endure. I can’t believe the backward leap some of the U.S. states are doing or considering with these transvaginal ultrasound laws. Very 19th century.