Monday 4 December 2017

Bladder Trauma

It's another late blog entry today. That's because it was another hospital visit today, unplanned and right from the get go. While Kathy, my HCA, and Erin, her supervisor, were here this morning, we all noticed blood in my urine, bright red blood, both in the jug from last night and in the catheter tray this morning. We were all speculating as to what it might be, but all of us thought, collectively, that it was a good idea to head me over to the hospital and get it checked out. I called 911.

This time I went to a different hospital, Peter Lougheed Center. It was much like Foothills Hospital, right down the the constant, ongoing construction which has been taking place for years in both hospitals. I don't know how the province prioritizes things like this, but these renovations, in both hospitals, have been going on for years, many years. One hopes the province can find the money one day to finish this work. As it stands now, they offer excellent service in the worst of conditions, renovation conditions.

When I got to the hospital, it was about 12:45PM. Nobody seemed in a hurry to see me, so I relaxed and waited for the long haul. It really wasn't that long at all when you take into account all they had to do. First there was blood to draw for the laboratory, to test for all kinds of things, especially hemoglobin count to see if my kidneys were functioning properly. Then there was urine to extract with an in/out catheter to test for bacterial infection. There were also, of course, the obligatory meetings with busy nurses and a very busy doctor.

All the medical professionals helping me today were women, and all of them seemed to need to closely inspect my genitalia for suspect damage, including a fully manual check of the status of my testicles. I told no jokes. In some ways I was more concerned than usual, in that nobody has ever inspected me that closely in the past. Nonetheless, after inspection and tests, the doctor concluded that the blood in my urine was mostly likely from "trauma" to my bladder from the insertion of the in/out catheter last night.

On a more pleasant note, I ran into one of my friends while I was in the hall at the hospital. She works there as a Social Worker, a resource I have had to draw on now and again. She wouldn't have even known I was there except for running across me in the hall. Her two visits made the day so much nicer. She is a wonderful person and we had so much to catch up on. I am certain I will have her and her partner over for dinner sometime soon.

So you see, a hospital visit for me isn't always bad news. Sometimes, rarely, good things can happen at the hospital.

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