The other great thing a catheter does very well (in my experience anyway) is leak and leak again.
If there is anything more terrifying than smelling like old accident prone uncle Stan (yes he fought in the war flying Spitfires so we won’t put him in a home, bless him) it’s having that tell tell wet patch. That patch that you can only hope that your bag, todays newspaper or a Michael Jackson side shuffle (without the finesse, adulation and money) would hide from an unforgiving world.Read More »
I left hospital incontinent, infertile, on a restricted diet, fitted with a catheter that was too short, more holes in me than I had the day before and without any of my medication. With all that in mind, this was likely to be the best day ever to go and purchase a couple of lottery tickets as something had to balance out in my favour but I resisted.Read More »
I don’t remember much of the first hours after waking up after the surgery. I was in the recovery ward but it felt more like I was recovering from a couple of rounds with Mike Tyson after I had called him a big fat fairy, than an operation. I was not in any pain but I was definitely the picnic basket without any cutlery – not all there.Read More »