Two steps forward, one step back

Recovering from a major surgery like a prostatectomy is no easy task, and while Tuesday was a relative delight because I was basking in the comfort of being home, yesterday turned into a torture session.

My catheter tube became blocked and with no way to get out, urine was beginning to come out around the sides of the catheter. By the time the doctor was finally convinced that it was a blockage, it was nearly midnight and I had to go to the emergency room.

Embarrassing yourself by having to hold your penis in public and then screaming in pain in the bathroom while urine spews everywhere is not a scenario I care to repeat, though next time I think I’d scream the F-word rather than just screaming out in rage and pain. At least it sounds more macho than crying out in agony.

After a relatively simple and short procedure, the pain was entirely gone and I went home to a restful night of sleep.

I went into this surgery with a pretty clear idea of what the surgery and recovery entailed, but you never really understand the possible side-effects until you personally endure them.

Well tuned, the body
is source of a thousand delights,
disordered, ten million agonies.