Welcome to Scribd, the world's digital library. Read, publish, and share books and documents. See more
Download
Standard view
Full view
of .
Look up keyword
Like this
2Activity
0 of .
Results for:
No results containing your search query
P. 1
T.U.R.P.

T.U.R.P.

Ratings: (0)|Views: 67 |Likes:
Published by wfox2921

More info:

Published by: wfox2921 on Nov 17, 2011
Copyright:Attribution Non-commercial

Availability:

Read on Scribd mobile: iPhone, iPad and Android.
download as DOC, PDF, TXT or read online from Scribd
See more
See less

09/29/2012

pdf

text

original

 
T.U.R.P. 
A sequel to
Nobody promised life would be easy
by
Warren Fox.When Lou died in November 2007 it left a big hole in my life. We used to sing together but now Iwas left without his support. Before he died I wrote a parody about him which he liked a lot.
 
That Wild Colonial Boy.
There was a wild colonial boy, Lou Shilton was his name.He's born and bred in North Shore, and that's where Lou earned his fame.He was his father's younger son, his mother's pride and joy.And dearly did the girls all love, that wild colonial boy. At the early age of 16 years, Lou left his parents' home.All over Auckland's northern shores, he was inclined to roam.He rode a great big Thunderbird, this was his only toy.A terror on the North Shore was, that wild colonial boy.One morning on the highway as Lou Shilton rode along.And listening to his Thunderbird, his motor hummed a song.Out sprang the three traffic cops, Black Tracker, Tollich, Lovejoy.The three set out to capture him, that wild colonial boy.“Pull over now Lou Shilton, for you see we're three to one”.“I will never surrender”, he said, as he gave his bike the gun.He dropped down a cog and wrapped it on, this trick he did employ.They won't get within a bull's roar, of that wild colonial boy.Around the Milford back roads where Lou Shilton made his run.They could only gaze in wonder, when Lou Shilton did the ton.He over revved and threw a rod, his engine he did destroy.And that was how they captured him, that wild colonial boy.
Explanation:- Thunderbird = a make of motorcycle.Gave his bike the gun = Full speed.Dropped down a cog = changed down a gear.Wrapped it on = Turning the twist grip to open the throttle.Within a bull's roar = Won't get close. Threw a rod = blew up the engine.During this time, at my requests, I was having six monthly PSA (prostate specific antigens) tests.As the readings slowly started to rise, which could be an indication of cancer of the prostate, thedoctor sent me for a biopsy. A not very nice procedure where they poke a camera into your bottomand have a look around and take six sample from the prostate with a needle that is attached to thisapparatus. The samples are sent off for analysis. Two weeks later I'm told that it is all clear andthere is no sign of cancer.As my prostate slowly grows larger, then so does the PSA reading and eventually the doctor sends me back for a second biopsy. Once again it comes back clear of cancer.After awhile, on odd occasions, I find it difficult to start urinating when I go to the toilet in themiddle of the night. The first time it happened I paced up and down for awhile until I was able to dolittle bits at five minute intervals until it was all gone. Then urinating comes back to normal again.I reported this to my doctor and he sent me back for a third biopsy. This time the Urologist agreedwith me that the high PSA reading was only due to the “massive” size of my prostate. (His wordsnot mine.) So he put me on a new drug called Finasteride to shrink my prostate. This did make itslowly shrink but for the first few weeks it made me feel very uncomfortable when urinating. Theuncomfortable feeling did slowly go away but I developed terrible itching all over my back which gotso bad that they had to take me off the Finasteride drug.Naturally my prostate started to grow again and on the 20
th
of December 2010, I woke at 2am
 
with a strong urge to go to the toilet but to my horror nothing would come out. I tried all themethods I could think of that had worked in the past but this time nothing worked.At five o'clock in the morning, Margarita came out of the bedroom and asked what was wrong. Itold her that I couldn't pass urine and was in some pain. We tried ringing for help but only gotanswer phone messages.Eventually we got through to our local clinic and were told we could have an appointment at 12noon locally or we could go to the Wellsford clinic at 9am.I couldn't believe that they didn't treat me as urgent and take me straight away. We chose theWellsford clinic which is at least half an hour drive away and so Margarita drove me there.We arrived at ten minutes to nine and I was hoping that Dr Jason would take me straight awaybut he just continued with his present patient and then another one. I was so distressed that I waspacing up and down the passage trying to forget the horrible feeling in my bladder. When he finallydid take me at twenty past nine and I told him what was wrong he spent a lot of his time taking myblood pressure and writing things down in his notes.Eventually he told me he was going to put a catheter into 'my old fellow'. (his words not mine).This was a very unpleasant experience and it took four separate movements to completely get it in.Then the urine drained away and I had total relief, thank goodness.I was told to lie there for half an hour and then he removed the catheter and that felt unpleasantas well. We had to pay an extra twenty four dollars for the visit because of the catheter insertion.Then I was told I could go home.As soon as I got into the car I had a strong urge to go to the toilet so I raced back into the clinictoilet but nothing came out. I concluded that maybe it was because I needed to have a drink sothat there was something to come out. Just how wrong could I be?All the way home I kept feeling that I needed to urinate. As soon as I got home I rushed into thetoilet but nothing happened so I had a drink of water but this only made it worse. The feeling gotprogressively, unbelievably bad so we tried to ring the Wellsford Clinic but kept getting an answer phone and our messages were not returned. Eventually we rang their emergency number andMargarita told them that I was in distress so they said the Doctor would ring me back soon. Henever did.By now I was going into spasms which were trying to force the urine out but it had a blocked exitand caused terrible pain each time it happened. So Margarita rang the emergency number againand told the nurse that I was in great distress. The nurse said pop him in the car and bring himstraight in. We arrived at 4pm and I was put in the nurses' station to wait for the doctor. And wait Idid.Every time the spasms came they were worse than the time before and I was crying out withpain. This was upsetting for the nurses as well and they kept going to see Dr Jason. Then theywould come back and say “He's coming soon”. He came at 5-10 pm. An hour and ten minutes after my arrival. I don't know why he didn't drop everything and come and put the catheter in and thengo back to his other jobs, but although I was angry, I was also very vulnerable, so I said nothing.Then he put the catheter in again with the same four painful movements and then the pain in mybladder went away. After another half hour and another twenty four dollars I was told that I could gohome and that the district nurse could remove the catheter in three days time. This was the start of what we were later to called 'My Month Of Hell'.Wearing a catheter all the time and especially in bed was horrendous, awkward and distasteful.All the things that I had taken for granted were now difficult. Bending down, sitting on the toilet,getting dressed and sleeping on one side to mention just a few.However on the third day, 23
rd
December, the district nurse removed the catheter and I was freeagain. At first it hurt when I went to the toilet but by Friday night the pain stopped and everythingworked perfectly when I went to bed at midnight. At 2am I suddenly woke up with a strong urge tourinate but when got to the toilet it wouldn't come out again and nothing would make it work. I kepttrying until 5am when I gave up trying.After the bad experience which we had had with the doctor we bypassed him and rang for theambulance to take me to hospital. Besides it was Christmas day and everything was closed.The ambulance duly arrived and after asking me a few questions we took off to WhangareiHospital which took close to an hour and I was in pain all the way but when we arrived they tookme straightaway and the nurse put the catheter in immediately. This was done in one singlemovement which hardly hurt at all. I was surprised at how easily she had done it.
 
After they gave me some breakfast they said that I could go home. I didn't know how I could dothat as I was miles from home and had no transport. I rang Margarita and although she is verynervous about driving in heavy traffic or on the main highways we had no other option so she cameup and got me. The hospital told me to go to the nearest chemist which would be open for half anhour from one o'clock to get some antibiotic pills which I must take. Being Christmas dayeverything was closed.By half past one we had the antibiotic pills and paid the $5 surcharge then realize that we wereboth hungry but nothing was open. Not McDonald's or Kentucky Fried Chicken or supermarkets.Nothing.So we drove down the main road looking for somewhere to buy some food and by chance wefound an Indian restaurant that was open so we dived in there and had boiled fish for our Christmas dinner. Then we went home.Gradually a pain started getting worse at the point where the tube comes out and over that dayand night it got unbearable. So the next day when the neighbours came up to their holiday house,next door, they said that if I had to go back to the hospital that they would come up to Whangareithe next day and bring me home. So that night, the day after Christmas day, we rang theambulance again and they took me back to the hospital.After examining me they said that the end of my penis had become ulcerated and so they putsome gel on it and said to keep taking the antibiotics.This was about 10pm and then they said that I could go home. So I said that I had no way of getting home until the morning as the neighbours, who were coming to get me, were drinking butwould be up in the morning. As all the hospital staff were wearing tee shirts with “Don't drink anddrive” printed on them, they agreed with me but they said that all the wards were full. I said I would just sit in a chair until morning but they said they could do better than that. So they left me in thebed in the examination room with the curtain pulled around me.All night long patients were coming in with the most horrific injuries and I had to listen to this allthrough the night and to make things worse my watch stopped as the battery had run flat. Therewere no windows or clock in this room and so I had no idea what part of the night it was. A malenurse came around and told me it was 3am and did I need anything and I asked for a blanket.When morning thankfully dawned, they gave me breakfast and changed the urine bag and toldme to make arrangements to go home. I rang Margarita and she said she would be coming up withthe neighbour, very soon. With my watch still not working I wait and wait and am very pleasedwhen Margarita and Terry, the neighbour, walk around the corner. I try to say goodbye to the staff but they are 'preoccupied'. So I leave unannounced.The district nurse is assigned to me and comes around every few days to attend to my needswhich are plenty. Rashes, infections, blockages in the flow. Sometimes I go into spasms and theurine flow comes out faster than the tube can cope, so it flows around the outside and I have wetpants. Horrible! On one occasion the tube became detached during the night and wets the bed.Sleeping is a problem also as I have to lay on my right side only.The catheter was due to come out after several days but the district nurse suggests that I wouldstill have the same problem all over again so she makes me an appointment with a different doctor.This time I go to see David Hassan and I tell him about the spasms so he gives me some pills tosuppress them and that problem is then fixed.Then on Monday the 17
th
we go to see David again and we discuss what to do in the long termabout my ongoing dilemma. I had been trying to avoid an operation, even suggesting that I go backon the Finasteride pills to shrink my prostrate but I am advised that the itch problem wouldprobably come back worse than before. So I agree to have the operation called a T.U.R.P.(Transurethral resection of the prostate) whereby they ream out the prostate to allow a normalurine flow. David then rings the urology clinic for an interview and we are told that I can see them in2 months time.“That's too long a time. I'll probably have jumped off the Auckland Harbour bridge by then.” I tellhim. Then I ask would it be sooner if I paid for the first visit. He rings them back and they then say Ican see them tomorrow and it will cost $180. They have had a cancellation. I agree to this newarrangement and we duly go to see Tony Nixon on Tuesday, up at Whangarei.Tony agrees that I need a T.U.R.P. and tells me what is involved and the percentage of chancesof dying during the operation. It will take about one to one and a half hours and you will need to bein hospital for two to three days. I agree and ask when I can have it done.

You're Reading a Free Preview

Download
/*********** DO NOT ALTER ANYTHING BELOW THIS LINE ! ************/ var s_code=s.t();if(s_code)document.write(s_code)//-->