How I Ended Up With A Hole In My Bladder and A Bag of Bloody Urine Taped To My Leg... Or, Why Stadium Buddies Are Awesome!

Where were we? Oh right. I peed out that giant blood clot.

Yesterday I went to a urologist because, lo-and-behold, it seems if you pee out one blood clot more are surely to follow, and so it was, my pee was riddled with blood clots.

This is probably totally normal, I told myself. Noooo big deal. Nothing to see here.

But the urologist was all, "Ummm, this is not normal. And given your... (pause) history, we need a full workup. A CT-scan and a cystoscopy."

I was calm. Cool. Collected. Ok, I said, that sounds fine, but what's a cystocopy?

Hold up... You're gonna stick a camera up my pee hole?!

When you've had my "history" (read: Oh crap, she had cancer is probably going to die right in front of me at any second), doctor's talk to you a certain way. It's a hushed tone. Like, 'Well, you probably don't have anything serious wrong with you, but because of your history, there is legitimate cause for... concern'

I am always irritated by this.  

Look, jerk-faces. I don't need you to imply that there might be something wrong with me because there isn't and I'm only doing these tests to confirm to you I was right all along, so suck it.

I could tell the urologist lady was a bit fearful of what the CT-scan might show (who isn't, right?) but ultimately she thought I had radiation cystitis. So I'll pee blood forever, whatevs.

On the CT-scan table I could feel tears streaming down the side of my face.

I was crying, but I wasn't "upset," per se. It was mostly because CT-scan contrast makes me feel like I have to vomit and wet my pants all at the same time, and the CT-scan machine kind of gives me flashbacks. Plus, what if they do find something?! Oh god, I'm gonna die... and I never learned to read!

Oh wait. Nevermind.

Back at the doctor's office post-CT scan, the urologist comes barging in as soon as I get into the room, plops down and says, 'This is unexpected and... interesting.'

Oh for God's sake, lady! Just get on with it! Am I dying die or not?!

Turns out, y'all, my IUD had punctured my bladder and was stuck in there. So she put a camera into my pee hole to get a closer look while I took pictures of the monitor, and I'll be damned, there was part of my IUD, in my bladder, with blood clots swishing around everywhere.




The good news, though, is as we were going, "Holy eff! Look at that!" she noted my bladder is the picture of health — what radiation, fools?! — and is in such great shape that it could probably win the World Cup.  

Gooooaaaallll!

I didn't say it, but I totally wanted to rub it in her face all, "Told you I was bulletproof. Suck it!"

[Ronson described urologists as "the truckers of the medical community." Hilarious and true. This woman was brash and agile with humor and swear-words. I totally loved her.] 

Conveniently for me, my urologist's office is next to a gynecologists office, and the two doctor ladies are pals. So the gyno came over and consulted on how they were going to get the IUD out of my bladder.

After an unexpected pelvic exam — thanks random gyno lady from across the hall! — they decided it could NOT come out of my hoo-ha because of scar tissue from radiation damage.




So the urologist was all, 'I bet I can get it out via her urethra.' It was then that I pretended to pass out. But I was totally numb "down there" and started chanting, "Pull. It. Out! Pull. It. Out!" Which she did, out of my pee hole, using a camera and what looked like really tiny cooking tongs. 



One minute I'd be cracking jokes during all this, the next minute I'd be crying because, well, I was traumatized from having a piece of plastic protruding into my bladder and I was lying on a table looking at it.

As she tossed the newly freed IUD into a cup she said, "You want to keep it, show your friends?"

I would but my friends are kinda lame, I told her. I'd have taken a photo for you guys but I was hysterical over what happened next.

So the urologist says I can't just go home with a hole in my bladder — Why the hell not? It hasn't been a problem until now, I argued — and that I'd need a catheter.

A catheter?! Holy shiz. I saw my life flash before my eyes, y'all... no more swimming, no more bikinis, cute dresses or short-shorts, just long Mennonite jean skirts and baggy pants for the rest of my grim, grim life. I was sobbing.

"You only need the catheter for few days, until the hole heals."

Oh. Right.

Apparently bladders heal quickly, who knew. So if you're going to puncture an internal organ, the bladder is not so bad, minus the catheter. So until Thursday I have a tube coming out of my pee hole and a bag of bloody urine strapped to my leg.

But it's kinda awesome because I never have to get up to pee. Imagine how great it'd be at a bar. Not only attention grabbing (who wouldn't want to date me with this thing?!) but also useful, no more waiting in line or worrying if there's toilet paper.

I'm excited to show it to my coworkers tomorrow. It's a badge of honor really. I think they'll be stoked to see it.

I emailed my Boss Man about the whole thing, using the words "vaginally" and "IUD" and "bloody urine pee bag" to let him know I'd need a day at home to recuperate. I could have just said, "I'm sick," but I didn't want to half-ass it.

I made the mistake of telling my mom this whole ordeal — moms, they worry you know — and she was flipping out that I am considering getting another IUD. Is that weird? I mean, it was awesome for 2.5 years... minus this pee bag thing right now and the hole in my bladder.

Some people are just really sensitive. (Mom, I'm lookin' at you).

Anyway, after it was all over I was physically and emotionally exhausted, but then they gave me a sucker and some M&Ms that say 'Be nice to me, I had a cysto' on them and I was totally fine.



Mostly. Except I was too tired to go get my prescriptions so I called Ronson when I got home and was all, "I was peeing blood clots and they discovered my IUD had punctured my bladder and then they had to pull it out through my pee hole today and now I have a catheter and a pee bag strapped to my leg and I'm exhausted soooo, can you do me a favor..."

To which he replied, "I am terrified of what you are going to ask me right now."

He was grateful I just needed him to run to Walgreens for me. (And I didn't even make him look at my catheter, because I'm a good friend like that.)

I spent today checking email, filling in colleagues and emptying my pee bag. Then about 5 p.m. these lovely flowers were delivered to me! They are from my Boss Man and colleagues and the card says, "Sorry you're peeing blood! We feel punctured by your absence."

Ha!



Later on I'm walking over (slowly) to Yagoot with Erin and her husband and I'm getting the medium cup of Yagoot, because I deserve it, damn it.