The whole deal. Blood in the urine. Intense fucking pain during urination. And then it just plain disappeared again.
This time, it started around 4:30 am. Got up after a nap, went to do the post nap pee thing, ow ow ow, also, blood.
If anything, this time the pain was worse. But like the previous time, it didn’t hurt for the entire time I was urinating. Just during approximately the middle of the event.
But holy fuck does it hurt. And unlike yesterday, I was awake and alert enough to think, “Here comes the pain!” every time I had to pee, which made it a little worse.
Knowing what is coming is not always a good thing. Especially when it is something you can’t do anything to avoid.
So clearly, something is up. Something that will probably flare up again tomorrow, if not sooner. And if/when it does, I am heading straight to the ER.
As in, ow ow ow, hey look blood, calling taxi NOW. Might as well catch this bullshit in the act, as it were. Beats the hell out of explaining what WAS happening to the nurse at triage and all the rest.
And it seems likely to recur at some point. If it happened twice, it will happen again.
The question, then, is WTF? As in, what the fuck is happening? When I was (briefly) talking to my therapist Doctor Costin this morning, he suggested that I am passing a stone, and that seems plausible.
I am a little hesitant to reach that conclusion, however, because that was what I thought it was the previous time I was pissing blood and the people at the hospital were all “Nope, not that, that almost never happens, forget about it. ”
Could they have been wrong? Perhaps if I had not gotten sick the day I was supposed to get that cystoscopy (aka camera up the peehole), I would know.
I was supposed to call to reschedule that. You know, on my own initiative. Of which I have just scads and scads.
Oh well. If/when I land in the ER again, maybe I can suggest they do it then. You know, while I am there and all.
Or at least I could do the rescheduling then.
Not looking forward to going back to the ER. It’s a very boring and stressful place. Boring because there is not much to do besides just lay there, and stressful because of all the bleeps and bloops and other noises.
Plus, for the vibe sensitive like me, the aura of tension and worry and stress from all the seriously messed up stuff an ER deals with all the time is both palpable and oppressive.
But if I gotta go, I gotta go.
At least this time, I am in less of a panic and therefore have time to think about what I want to bring with me to make the time more bearable.
A book, for sure. Maybe some snacks, although I would have to make sure I am cleared for those before eating them.
Hell, I suppose I could even bring myself my massager.
I mean, what the heck, might as well work on my back pain while I am there.
More after the break.
Life’s little pitfalls
I ordered my usual beloved Garlic Aioli dip with my 7-11 potato wedges and got the Cheddar Habanero instead.
Dammit. I can’t even eat the Habanero one. Habanero goes right through me and isn’t exactly gentle on the way through.
And I am the only one in this household who eats even mildly spicy food, so it’s not like I can give the stuff to Joe or Julian.
And the thing is, I don’t even like the potato wedges that much. I find their spiciness unnecessary and irritating. The only thing that ameliorates that is, you guessed it, that Garlic Aioli dip.
The coolness of the mayo base of the aioli silences the spiciness and of course, replaces it with a pleasant garlic flavour.
Ketchup does not cut it. I am finding that out right now.
Kind of regretting ordering a cheddar smokie with nacho sauce now. My mouth is a riot of various kinds of spiciness right now. Most unpleasant.
Thing is, until tonight, the DoorDash menu for my local 7-11 (Cooney and Granville) didn’t have the Garlic Aioli on it. Hadn’t for about a month. So when it popped back up again, I was like, all right, it’s back.
Apparently not. I assume my delivery person can tell the difference between the two and that the only reason I got that Habanero crap was that they were out of Garlic Aioli.
Frankly, I am beginning to worry about my local 7-11. Things like this keep happening. And the other day, when I went in there in search of samosas, they weren’t simply out, they were vehement about having absolutely no samosas at all.
I suppose they might have had some thickhead being all “Get some out of the back, I can wait!”. But apparently samosas are just not a thing at that one any more.
And the staff seemed pretty tense too. Definitely a worried and stressed vibe.
Oh well, it’s not like I am worried they will go out of business. Franchisees may fail but franchises do not. If the current owner/operator of that 7-11 truly blows the goat on running it, another will take their place.
Meanwhile, I will be careful what I trust them with.
Not my dip order, that’s for sure.
Oh, and the icing on the crap-cake was that I forgot to order a Double Gulp of Diet Coke in order to get myself a new Double Gulp glass after the last one began to crack.
That was the whole reason I was ordering from 7-11 in the first place!
Oh well. I will be ordering in tomorrow night. I can try again then.
I find the Double Gulp plastic glasses (or are they glass plastics) last around a month of fairly heavy duty as my glass for both my water and my beloved Diet Coke.
Not bad for like $2.50!
I suppose I could get something more permanent and classy. But in the past, I have had trouble finding anything big enough for my needs that was both attractive and reasonably priced and not a huge freaking stein.
I’m a big guy with a big thirst and smaller vessels would involve far too much getting up for refills. That would be annoying as fuck,
Wow. I managed to write almost 600 words on my dumb little issue.
I am oddly proud of that.
I will talk to you nice people again tomorrow.