Surgery because I am an old man
Posted: 01 Oct 2022, 07:02
Getting old is tough.
I have a mechanical heart valve, had cancer, struggling (and limping) through plantar fasciitis, the dentist says I need about $1500 worth of work to make the next payment on his new $80K truck, and, of course, I have to pee about 30 to 40 times between bedtime and sunup.
That last one is a doozy. IF the cardiologi$t approves me next week, then on Nov 14th I will have surgery to correct the urinary obstruction.
Basically the surgery is described as follows:
1.) I will be on a gurney naked in a room full of females 20 to 30 years younger than myself that I do not know, who will look at me like a dead possum on a summer highway.
2.) One of said women will insert a Phillips head screwdriver into my arm and ask me if that hurts.
3.) Another woman will hang some clear bags of liquid on a metal Christmas tree and connect them to a tube leading to the handle on the phillips head screwdriver sticking out of my arm.
5.) After twisting a valve on the tube, either gasoline, or alcohol, or a mixture of both, will begin to enter my arm and I will be told this is to help me relax.
6.) As the doctor enters the room from the golf course, he will wink at all of the cute young ladies and point at me.
7.) The woman with the post at the tube with the valves will turn another valve releasing a chemical known to have killed Michael Jackson into my arm resulting in my immediate unconsciousness and hopefully not death.
8.) Now that I am immobilized and stupified (more than usual), the woman with the coldest hands will pull back the drape over parts of my body I would prefer she not touch, and insert a lubricated 4" diameter PVC tube from Home Depot into my urethra. This is to see if I am still awake.
9.) The doctor will remove his golf glove, and put on two purple vinyl gloves with hearts and smiley faces on them, and remove a small hand held propane torch and an Iphone from his tool box.
10.) The iphone, which barely fits inside the 4" PVC tube from Home Depot that is in my urethra, will be stuffed inside my bladder where it will send bluetooth video and images to the split screen TV so the doctor can see inside my bladder while he finishes watching the last episode of "Dexter"
11.) The propane torch will then be guided through the 4" PVC tube from Home Depot and with the aid of the bluetooth live video, he will set fire to a significant portion of prostate tissue obstructing my urethral opening.
12.) After the smoke clears and emerges from the PVC tube, if all obstructing tissue is appropriately charred, the iPhone will be removed by the kite string tied to it. Next, the propane torch will be backed out with a come along.
13.) The 4" PVC tube from Home Depot will now be removed and replaced by a standard garden hose.
14.) If I am still alive at this point, the Michael Jackson sauce will be discontinued and I will awaken to be told "everything went just fine" by the man who just did this to me.
15.) I will be expected to find MY Iphone and call an Uber to take me home, stopping first at Home Depot to get an orange bucket for the garden hose to drain in.
16.) While sitting perfectly still, in agony, with a garden hose protruding from my urethra for 5 days, I will recline in my chair with the remote control and whimper in pain quietly so as not to excite the dog to jump into my lap, which would result in my eye balls popping out from the pain.
17.) 4 days later, on Friday, I will Uber back to the hospital. Mind you I am still wearing the gown with the open back from the surgery on Monday, and my "Mike Lindell MY SLIPPERS" that I ordered off the TV.
18.) The oldest nurse, with the worst breath, and coldest hands of all, will pull up my gown and yank out the garden hose after telling me, "this may sting a little bit".
19.) The doctor will peak his head in the door, tell me again that everything went fine, and to call him if my urine flow doesn't stop feeling like sulfuric acid by next Monday, or if the bleeding exceeds 1 quart per trip to the bathroom.
20.) The nurse hands me a mop to clean up the mess that poured out of the garden hose into the floor while she changes the table paper and rolls up the garden hose for me to take home as a souvenir.
21.) I catch the last Uber back home where I find my wife has removed all the firearms and ammunition from our home.
22.) On the following Monday, I will be expected to be back at work, smiling and working and sweating, as if nothing has ever happened, and to produce multiple mounds of productivity, and money, for those who pay me just enough to keep me from starving to death.
I have decided AGAINST having a diagnostic colonoscopy at this time.
Prayers appreciated.
I have a mechanical heart valve, had cancer, struggling (and limping) through plantar fasciitis, the dentist says I need about $1500 worth of work to make the next payment on his new $80K truck, and, of course, I have to pee about 30 to 40 times between bedtime and sunup.
That last one is a doozy. IF the cardiologi$t approves me next week, then on Nov 14th I will have surgery to correct the urinary obstruction.
Basically the surgery is described as follows:
1.) I will be on a gurney naked in a room full of females 20 to 30 years younger than myself that I do not know, who will look at me like a dead possum on a summer highway.
2.) One of said women will insert a Phillips head screwdriver into my arm and ask me if that hurts.
3.) Another woman will hang some clear bags of liquid on a metal Christmas tree and connect them to a tube leading to the handle on the phillips head screwdriver sticking out of my arm.
5.) After twisting a valve on the tube, either gasoline, or alcohol, or a mixture of both, will begin to enter my arm and I will be told this is to help me relax.
6.) As the doctor enters the room from the golf course, he will wink at all of the cute young ladies and point at me.
7.) The woman with the post at the tube with the valves will turn another valve releasing a chemical known to have killed Michael Jackson into my arm resulting in my immediate unconsciousness and hopefully not death.
8.) Now that I am immobilized and stupified (more than usual), the woman with the coldest hands will pull back the drape over parts of my body I would prefer she not touch, and insert a lubricated 4" diameter PVC tube from Home Depot into my urethra. This is to see if I am still awake.
9.) The doctor will remove his golf glove, and put on two purple vinyl gloves with hearts and smiley faces on them, and remove a small hand held propane torch and an Iphone from his tool box.
10.) The iphone, which barely fits inside the 4" PVC tube from Home Depot that is in my urethra, will be stuffed inside my bladder where it will send bluetooth video and images to the split screen TV so the doctor can see inside my bladder while he finishes watching the last episode of "Dexter"
11.) The propane torch will then be guided through the 4" PVC tube from Home Depot and with the aid of the bluetooth live video, he will set fire to a significant portion of prostate tissue obstructing my urethral opening.
12.) After the smoke clears and emerges from the PVC tube, if all obstructing tissue is appropriately charred, the iPhone will be removed by the kite string tied to it. Next, the propane torch will be backed out with a come along.
13.) The 4" PVC tube from Home Depot will now be removed and replaced by a standard garden hose.
14.) If I am still alive at this point, the Michael Jackson sauce will be discontinued and I will awaken to be told "everything went just fine" by the man who just did this to me.
15.) I will be expected to find MY Iphone and call an Uber to take me home, stopping first at Home Depot to get an orange bucket for the garden hose to drain in.
16.) While sitting perfectly still, in agony, with a garden hose protruding from my urethra for 5 days, I will recline in my chair with the remote control and whimper in pain quietly so as not to excite the dog to jump into my lap, which would result in my eye balls popping out from the pain.
17.) 4 days later, on Friday, I will Uber back to the hospital. Mind you I am still wearing the gown with the open back from the surgery on Monday, and my "Mike Lindell MY SLIPPERS" that I ordered off the TV.
18.) The oldest nurse, with the worst breath, and coldest hands of all, will pull up my gown and yank out the garden hose after telling me, "this may sting a little bit".
19.) The doctor will peak his head in the door, tell me again that everything went fine, and to call him if my urine flow doesn't stop feeling like sulfuric acid by next Monday, or if the bleeding exceeds 1 quart per trip to the bathroom.
20.) The nurse hands me a mop to clean up the mess that poured out of the garden hose into the floor while she changes the table paper and rolls up the garden hose for me to take home as a souvenir.
21.) I catch the last Uber back home where I find my wife has removed all the firearms and ammunition from our home.
22.) On the following Monday, I will be expected to be back at work, smiling and working and sweating, as if nothing has ever happened, and to produce multiple mounds of productivity, and money, for those who pay me just enough to keep me from starving to death.
I have decided AGAINST having a diagnostic colonoscopy at this time.
Prayers appreciated.