Memories Of A Catheter
I've just recently had to go to hospital for surgery that required me to remain confined to the bed. As this was a two-day (overnight) stay, I was due to be fitted with a catheter. For those who don't know (and for maximum gross-out effect), I'll tell you: a catheter is a tube which they slip up your bell-end (or mimsy, if you're female) that goes straight to your bladder. Any pee that your bladder produces just drains away through the catheter without you giving it a moment's thought.
Before I went to the ward, I made sure that my bowels were completely empty by crimping off a loaf that needed a tiny bit of encouragement to come out. Thankfully, my surgery was in the afternoon, and I remained unconscious until late evening. I woke up in the middle of the night drugged to the eyeballs. I busied myself trying to trace all the tubes and wires that were sticking out of various parts of my body.
I was pleased to note that at this point I did not need to shit. I had been having nightmares about having to shit in bed, as this was not something I wanted to experience. The ward felt like it was packed like sardines; and worst of all, there were a team of six highly-attractive young nurses who were working at the ward desk in front of me. Of course, my drug-warped mind may have made them more appealing then they probably were, but I would still be embarrassed if I shat my bed all the same.
It seemed like morning arrived very quickly. Normally when I wake up I give a loud burst of morning thunder. I'm proud of the loudness of my wind first thing in the morning -- but this was neither the time nor the place. And yet, to my complete horror, I could feel the pressure building up in my lower regions. I was praying that this was not a prelude to something horrible demanding to crawl out of my cinnamon tunnel. I stifled the farts and tried to contain them as best I could. The problem was, forcing them out was the only thing I could do.
I heard the farts. I can only hope no one else did. The major problem was that every time the dirty starfish winked, my muscles contracted elsewhere -- which is really painful when you have a rubber tube stuck down your willy. I prayed and prayed that this was not the brown dragon blowing fireballs out of my butt as it made its way to the cave entrance. Apart from being a complete Shameful Shitter, the pain would have finished me off.
I was now feeling very scared. I called the nurse over and demanded more painkillers.
To completely ruin the story, I was given more drugs and then woken up some hours later by someone telling me that I had to get up as they needed the bed. (No joke -- they really told me this.) One of the pretty nurses then came over, said something with a Bulgarian accent, and then shifted my clothes and exposed the old man himself.
Having a catheter removed is very painful.
I was then told that I had to use the toilet before they would let me go. (!) Fortunately, I didn't need much encouragement on that front. I got dressed and stumbled to the toilets, where I laid a fairly wet log. This turd was savored by me, as I was thankful it hadn't forced the issue to come out any earlier. I just wish I had been allowed to have my mobile phone with me so I could have taken a picture. (Those bloody killjoys said that it would interfere with the babies' life support equipment or something. Begrudgingly, I had to switch it off.)
As a side note: I was unfortunate enough to see a man having a camera stuffed up his butt. The nurses had failed to properly pull the curtain closed at the corner, and I was at the wrong angle to see everything. Why I saw this, I do not know, as I was in the Ear, Nose and Throat department. English hospitals: can't beat them.
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Catheter Poop Story