The Good, The Bad, And The Relapse (Part 1)

While he was laid up convalescing after his surgery, Farmer H was a pretty good patient. He still went to town, but didn't do anything that was forbidden. He kept his pee bag below his waist. He took his meds. He drank lots of fluid. He rested. 

I tried to help out. I watered the dogs, but Farmer H insisted on feeding them himself. I carried in his six-packs of Diet Mountain Dew, and kept them stocked in FRIG II. I made sure he always had three bottles of cold water available, and that one was on the nightstand when he went to bed. I put his meals on the plate and carried it to him sitting in my OPC (Old People Chair) so he didn't have to get up, and carry his pee bag with one hand.

Tuesday was trash day. So as I left for town on Monday afternoon, I mentioned that I was taking the trash up to the dumpster.

"You don't have to do that, HM. I can do that. I don't think it weighs over 10 pounds. I can take it in the morning when I leave."

"No. There's a rum bottle in there from when The Pony was here yesterday. And there's a big pickle jar. I think it weighs more than you should carry."

When I picked up groceries in town, Farmer H said that he could carry some of them in.

"No. Some of the stuff is heavy. There's no need for you to come out and try to carry a couple bags with only using one hand. I can do it. I'll leave part of it until the next day or two, and only bring the cold stuff and the bananas and bread."

Farmer H had said that it hurt him when bending over to put on his shoes and socks. Of course I offered to do that for him, but he said no. That he slept in his socks so as to only change them every other day. And he could step into his shoes. But by day 5, he was letting me put those shoes and socks on him.

He was actually a low-maintenance patient. And even seemed like he cared about my life being temporarily harder because of his predicament. He cautioned me to be careful while walking the trash a few steps across the yard between the T-Hoe's hood, where I was transporting it, and the dumpster.

But then...

Marking Time Until The Removal

Facing five days of being catheterized and carrying around a giant pee bag like a briefcase, Farmer H barely curtailed his regular activities. He DID agree not to mow the lawns or yard/field. Even though he said the zero-turn mower has a cushy seat. He also agreed not to climb down in the floor at Bargain House, to work on the joists. Even though one more day of work will likely have it ready for listing.

Farmer H's trips to the Senior Center for lunch continued. And stopping in his office for the elderly apartments. He sold at his SUS2.5 on Saturday and Sunday, though he came home around 2:00 on Sunday. He spent afternoons in my OPC (Old People Chair) drinking water and Diet Mountain Dew and watching TV. No more trying to take a shower, after the catheter clip catastrophe. He made do with a sink bath.

Farmer H said the worst part was the pain where the catheter comes out. He was more than ready to drive 30 miles Wednesday to have that contraption removed. He sent me a text right after. "It's out!"

I think the worst part of this experience was Tuesday afternoon, when an old friend called him. Her husband was very ill, in the hospital over in Bill-Paying Town. According to Farmer H, there was nothing more they could do for him, and his brain was no longer functioning. The decision had to be made to end his ordeal. The Friend called, in tears, saying how she was all alone, and didn't know anybody around here. Farmer H had a couple tears while he was telling me about it.

"I said I just couldn't do it. I have this pee bag to carry around, and it's really been hurting this afternoon, and I just couldn't go and sit at the hospital with her. I feel bad for her. I called one of my buddies from the lockers. He knew her husband. He said he'd go down there and see if he could help. So at least she won't be alone when they do it."

Farmer H needs to realize that he can't save the world. Sometimes he needs to take care of himself first.

Had My First Clip On A Friday Night. I Don't Reckon That I Did It Right.

Friday night, Farmer H went to take a shower. He planned on taking his pain pill afterwards, and bed. I was at the kitchen table innernetting. I said I'd check on him later. I'd already taken in a bottle of water to have on the nightstand.

"HM! I need your help!"

Well. That sent a shiver up my spine.

"I'll be right there! I'm coming!"

"You don't have to hurry." 

Farmer H was standing at the entrance to the kitchen, holding his tube. He's usually holding his plastic bag, but this time he had it in one hand, and his catheter tube in the other. He headed for the bedroom, and I followed. He eased himself onto the bed.

"This tube came loose! I cain't get it back on. I cain't see below my stomach. Can you clip it back?"

"I don't know what I'm doing. There's THREE tubes! None of them look like they'll fit in that clip."

"Well, one of them was in there. It held my catheter in place. Now it just dangles down and pulls on me! It hurts. We've gotta get it clipped back in."

"I can't figure it out. Do you know which one was in the clip? Do you have instructions? With a diagram?"

"No. They said it would never come out. But it did!"

"I'm trying to fit each of them in the clip, but it has a pointy thing sticking up. What's THAT for? Was it to block an opening in one of the tubes?"

"I don't know. Try to fit it on there."

"I don't know if that's a good idea. You could get an infection."

"We have to do something. Just try it."

[Pictures may show you more of Farmer H than you want to see, but I guarantee it's just his belly, hairy upper thigh, and thumb. You won't see the business end of his catheter, nor the other end, either.]

Here's what I was looking at:

This plastic gadget they said would never come open. It's on a swivel, so the catheter doesn't tug on Farmer H as his leg moves. But there's a pointy thing sticking up that keeps the tubes from fitting in there and then snapping shut.

Here are the three tubes:

The clear one is the catheter. The clear part was too big to fit in the clip. Farther along, I was pretty sure we shouldn't clip in the softer part, as that would cut off the flow through the tubing. The arms of that "tubey cactus" were obviously to be used for inserting stuff into Farmer H. But even they wouldn't fit into the clip to hold the whole apparatus in place.

Farmer H reached down and snapped that plastic gadget shut.

"See? That's how it closes."

"Why did you do that? What if I can't get it open again? I don't know what to do! Here. I'll get my phone, and take a picture so you can see."

Farmer H looked. And was still mystified. I fiddled with the plastic gadget, and by reading upside down and backwards on that sticky thing, I got the clip opened.

"I can try farther up. Try clamping that catheter tube down by the arms of the cactus. It might fit on one side of that pointy thing. THERE! It fit, and I snapped it shut. But I don't know if that's right!!!"

"Now tape it shut, HM! So it can't snap open again!"

"I can't do that! It's supposed to swivel. I can't tape it down. And that sticky patch is coming loose at the bottom. The whole thing might come off! I'm getting some tape, and I'll put it around the edges of that patch. At least that will stay on."

"That clip might come open!"

"I think you need to call the doctor. Or go up there tomorrow and ask if it's on right. You have FIVE MORE DAYS with this!"

"Maybe I'll do that. I can drive up to the ER and ask."

"You'll wait forever. But at least they can tell you what's going on with it. And maybe put on a new patch with a new clip."

"They might just put a new catheter in."

"NO! Don't let anyone do THAT! The urologist wanted the catheter to stay in to stop the bleeding! It's still bleeding every time you move around. A new one would start the whole thing all over again! Maybe you could just go to urgent care. Somebody should know how a catheter clips onto one of these things."

"I'll go to the ER up there like he told me. It looks okay right now, as long as the clip doesn't come open again."

Well. Farmer H did NOT go to the ER. He said everything was working okay, so he just came home from his SUS2.5 on Saturday without consulting anyone. What we needed was the advice of Blog Buddy Kathy! I'm pretty sure she knows her way around a catheter.

Farmer H's plumbing seems to be working okay with this arrangement, no matter how right or how wrong we have it hooked up.

[As for my title, apologies to Ed Sheeran, whom I'm sure reads my supersecret blog. What else could he possibly have to do? I don't want to pay any royalties for stealing a line from "Castle on the Hill." Surely Ed won't object to his song being mangled for a catheter catastrophe!]

An Impatient Patient

These next few tales are not for the squeamish. You may want to skip them. Details can be a bit... too detailed. Continue at your own risk. I can't be rushing around with smelling salts and cool head-washcloths to soothe faintees. I have an actual patient to keep alive.

Farmer H went directly to his recliner when The Pony brough him home from surgery around 5:15. He was moving slowly, and carrying a plastic bag the size of a briefcase. One side white, the other side clear. It was his pee bag, hooked up to his catheter, to remain in place for the next 7 days, after the roto-rootering of his prostate.

That's the scary part! He was only supposed to need that catheter for ONE day. Then the surgeon said Farmer H's prostate was more vascular than he had assumed, and the catheter needed to remain until the follow-up visit a week later. That the pressure would help keep the bleeding stopped.

WELL! One would hope so!

The fluid in the pee bag was not a pretty sight. The Pony and Farmer H assured me that such a red color was expected for a few days. It was like cherry KoolAid. That only to worry if it became thick, or had clots. If that happened, Farmer H should get to the ER at the hospital where he had his surgery (30 miles north), and not either of the two ERs down here, because they don't have a urologist on call.

Farmer H said that he was supposed to drink a lot of fluids. That soda was fine, too, along with water. His throat was sore from the anesthesia tube. He was hungry, but wanted something smooth. Smoother than the fake Hamburger Helper with mushrooms and beef stroganoff flavor. I offered him Vienna Sausages and a slice of Hawaiian bread, and he was thrilled.

Farmer H has assorted medicines for when the catheter comes out. Like an antibiotic, and a weird painkiller that will turn his pee orange or red. Also a painkiller for immediate pain, which was OXYCODONE. I didn't think they even gave that to people anymore. It's hard enough to get hydrocodone after a surgery. But Farmer H had 8 pills. He took one at bedtime.

I looked in on him several times. He slept pretty good, since he didn't have to get up for the bathroom all night. He says he can't sit in his recliner because it hurts to get up. So he alternates between the couch and my OPC (Old People Chair).

Farmer H went to town on Friday around noon. He visited with his buddies. He's not supposed to sit on hard surfaces. He said a shower was allowed. That he only needed to put his pee bag on the floor of the shower. I did not think this was a good idea.

I was proven right later Friday night...

Under The Knife And Back In The Life

I had not planned on giving any details of the surgery Farmer H had on Thursday. It has long been delayed waiting for assorted tests that were bungled by assorted providers. Anyhoo... the rescheduled surgery day arrived. Farmer H said it's fine to share online. Even his picture (!) which HE told The Pony to take at the hospital!

The surgery was scheduled for 1:00. Farmer H had to be there by 10:45. The surgery was by his urologist. I don't know what it was called, but Farmer H always refers to it as "roto-rootering my prostate." Meaning that the urologist was going to shave around inside his prostate, the goal being to open up a stricture so that Farmer H can empty his bladder more completely, leading to less frequent emptying, which wakes him up through the night, and keeps him hopping through the day. Supposedly this is a minor surgery...

The Pony kept me updated.

10:37 "In the waiting room now. Being taken back."

11:24 "The copay was $300. He put it on the debit card. Still back in pre-op, IV in and questionnaires done. Waiting for the anesthesiologist to come talk with him."

11:25 "He said to send you a picture. I mostly avoided seeing his bare rumpus as he got into the gown."

[Though he said I could share the picture, I have added fake sunglasses. You know, in case a solar eclipse breaks out while he's lying there.]

11:26 "Try to make him not nervous. Tell him I love him."

11:27 "I told him. He says he feels like he could fall asleep!"

11:28 "Heh, heh."

12:49 "They just took him back, almost exactly on schedule. I'm backin the waiting room now."

12:53 "Did they say an hour?"

12:54 "45 ish minutes was the latest I heard."

1:14 "Text update, surgery has officially started."

2:11 "Surgery ending update."

2:17 "Says he's back in the recovery area. Haven't called me back yet."

2:48 "Any news?"

2:48 "The patient is doing well" came in just now. Nothing about being able to go back yet."

3:10 "Back with him now. He says, 'I guess they've got a  bag I'm peeing in but I don't know.' A pause 'and that's burning.' He says his throat hurts, which, yeah they had a tube."

That's from the recovery room. Farmer H is always slow to come out of anesthesia.

3:12 "He reminds me of a mummy in a sarcophagus."

3:13 "Yeah. He's not awake enough to do much of anything."

3:14 "I guess they're not worried, if they let you back there."

3:15 "They're gonna bring the meds he's getting here and we'll pay with the debit. He's on some kind of IV drip right now."

3:24 "He says, 'I feel like I just peed. I can't tell if I did or didn't.'"

3:25 "Probably not, if it didn't hurt!"

3:26 "He said it did first! But yeah, that's the catheter at work."

3:37 "Nurse just emptied his catheter bag or whatever they had him draining into. So much. She said half an hour, maybe 40 more minutes and he can go."

4:36 "We're getting last discharge instructions. Catheter until next Wednesday so he doesn't bleeed out from the prostate."

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

The original details from the urologist, pre-surgery, mentioned coming home with a catheter, which could be removed the next day, either by Farmer H or a nurse.

More tomorrow...

My Eyes Could Feast, But My Tongue Could Not

Last time The Pony came out, we picked up Chinese food. I always get the Chicken and Broccoli, with white rice that I give to The Pony to take home and use in a later meal. Farmer H likes the Hunan Chicken with fried rice. The Pony switches every time. This time it was some kind of chicken. I don't recall the name, but The Pony said it was spicy. 

Indeed. I was gifted the two broccoli pieces that were in it (The Pony is not a fan), and I almost choked to death. Okay. I wouldn't make that statement to The Pony. Who did actually almost choke to death too recently...

Anyhoo... since cutting back and making wiser choices, The Pony only ate part of the meal, and took the rest home for another day. It still looked delicious.

"I added ginger and curry powder and water chestnuts."

That still looks really good. I think that's the original fried rice that The Pony got this time with the meal, though usually it's white rice. As good as it looks, I know that one bite would have me sputtering and choking. I don't like the spice. The exception is hot Chinese mustard, which I use sparingly. And some horseradish occasionally.

Freezer Nutrition For The Pony

The Pony has been cutting back and making wiser choices. Some of those choices include frozen dinners. Here's a particular favorite:

"It's Chicken Pesto Rigatoni. Only 430 calories I think. And somehow has 25g of protein!"

"Chicken has a lot of protein."

"Yeah! I was just shocked because that's 43% of the daily value in one thing that's only a third calorically!"

"That's why I eat a lot of chicken."

"Texture leaves a little to be desired, but yknow, it's microwave chicken. I like these for days I don't feel like properly cooking. Just to mix into the lineup."

"Yeah. It's good, and convenient."

And a better choice than ordering something delivered, The Pony agrees.