Me and My Peehole

It all started with a cold. I had a cold, there was no doubt about it - watery, itchy eyes, stuffy nose, coughing, achy head.  I hadn't slept well in days as a result of this cold, I was starting to get very annoyed.  I was still in school at USF and, in order to not drive my roommate completely nuts, I decided to go home for the weekend to visit my grandmother.  I figured I'd lock myself in my bedroom there and come out recouped on Monday morning.

Well, it was Saturday night and I still felt like hell. To make things worse, I couldn't get to sleep, it was 1:30 am, and I was at the end of my rope as far as patience. I went out to the bathroom and took some Comtrex. The directions on the box say to take two, but I knew that was for people with a minor cold, I had a bad one... I took four. An hour later and the stuff hadn't kicked in.

My grandmother had bronchitis a few months before and had some prescription stuff that could knock out an elephant. Mind you, I didn't care if I drowned in my own phlegm, I just wanted to get to sleep. A little while later and I still couldn't get to sleep - so I took some Alka-Seltzer Cough and Cold medication and another Comtrex... plus a glass of wine. Several minutes later, I was sleeping like a baby.  In fact, I slept all through Sunday... like a baby.

Monday morning came and I slowly got out of bed and drove up to Tampa.  I didn't have to pee that morning which seemed unusual, but my mouth was pretty dry so the medication must have done something. Later in the day, I still hadn't taken a leak. I thought it was kind of strange so I went to the bathroom and tried. It felt like it was coming but stopped at the end - if you know what I mean. I tried not to think about it and decided I'd try later. Later came and went and I still couldn't go, only now I really felt like I had to.

That night, I'm sitting on my lofted bed when my roommate Joe (a great big Italian guy) looks at me and asks what's wrong. "I can't pee." "What?" he says. "I can't pee." "Why can't you pee?" I can't answer this, I tell him that I've tried but it's no use... my peeing days are over. Joe tells me to call "Ask A Nurse" at the local hospital and ask if this is a problem.

I ask a nurse, and she asks how long it's been. Apparently, 48 hours is a long time not to void your bladder, which could result in it bursting, which could become a big problem. "Joe, I'm going to the hospital," I say. "Cool, I'll go with you. I've gotta experience this first-hand."

So, Joe and I get to the hospital emergency room and check in. The woman at the counter asks me what the problem is. I tell her that I can't pee. "You can't pee?" "I can't pee." "Why can't you pee?" "Good question, I'd like to know myself."

They shove me into a little room by myself and a big guy with a tattoo of a Hawaiian hula dancer on his forearm tells me to get into a little paper dress. I'm not too happy about this, but I comply. Then, he pulls up my dress exposing the peepster. He drapes this napkin with a hole in it over Willy and I notice that Willy isn't covered. "Um, it's still sticking out." He tells me that the doctor has to take a look at it.

The doctor comes in and takes a look. "Looks normal, kind of small, though." The reason was because it happened to be cold in that room and two guys had just grabbed my hankey...THAT'S WHY IT WAS SMALL!!!!!

The doctor asks me if I would consider myself tough. I don't like the sound of this. "Do you mean that you want to know if I have a high pain threshold? Since you have to ask, I'll say 'NO!'" He asks me if I've ever heard of a 'catheter.' I have, and I REALLY don't like the sound of this.

Anyway, the guy pulls out this tube, it's about six inches in circumference and twenty-two feet long. He tells me that he's going to give me a shot to numb my member. "Where, exactly, are you giving me this shot?" You guessed it! Right down the ol' urethra!

I thought this hurt. This didn't hurt, it was just a prelude. He then shoves this tube down the throat of the ol' boy and I shudder with pain.  Agony, that's a better word.  About twelve gallons drain into this bag.

He pulls the tube out and hooks me up to an I.V. I'm told to pee on my own, or else! "Or else, what?" "Or else we put the tube back in and keep you overnight." There was no way in hell they were putting that tube back in.

I go through three I.V. bags laying in a hospital bed (now I'm out in the hall with a curtain around me). They give me a giant Kool-Aid container I'm supposed to fill. By now, Joe is standing by my bed. Finally, nature calls, only I can't drain it. I ask Joe to ask if I can stand up - to let gravity assist - they say "Sure, men's room is down the hall." 

I walk down the hall (Joe holding the I.V. bag over my head) and I stand in the restroom with the door opened a crack for the intravenous tube. I stand there, pray like I've never prayed before... it all starts with a trickle - then a rush like goddamned Niagara Falls. "YYYYES!!!" I scream. Joe has tears in his eyes, "I'm so happy for you, man!"

In the end, they released me, and told me that if the box says to take two tablets, just take two tablets. It seems that antihistamines build up in your system (I'd been taking them for days). Now, if I have a cold, I just suffer.