A week has passed.
The previous Sunday, I had to work. This is three days after Tech 2 discovered the UTI (Urinary Track Infection). Discreetly, and because I can, I pull up my patient history via my workstation’s computer, to check on what kind of bug the C&S (Culture and Sensitivity) demonstrated.
Ah-ha! There is growth after culturing for Enterobacter aerogenes, a nasty little Gram-negative, rod-shaped bacterium. This bacterium is nosocomial (acquired from a hospital setting) and opportunistic (takes advantage of any opportunity). The fact that I had the Foley Catheter threaded up my urethra at the time, lent an easy entrance for the bug. Perhaps they should have utilized a topical antibiotic ointment for where the catheter exited me. It did slide in and out of me a bit. (That was the “tugging at my center” in earlier posts.)
The Sensitivity report listed numerous antibiotics suitable for use against the bug. Later that day, I get a call from a doctor with the Urology Clinic saying she was sending a prescription to my pharmacy for Ciprofloxacin 500 MG tablets, ten of them taken twice a day for five days. Super!
It really does hurt to pee by now.
So, I’m back in the Urology Clinic with Tech Number 2 again. I’m undressed in the preferred way, sitting in the absorbent-draped weird chair, and with my bottom-end exposed for Tech 2 to work on. This is oh-so-much fun.
“Okay, Mr. New, you’re familiar with the iodine, right?”
“Yes. Go ahead.”
She goes about her work like the professional she is. I relax and wait.
“Now, I’m injecting the lubricating, numbing jelly, okay?”
“Okay.” I’m verbal today.
“And now, I hold the jelly in for two minutes.” I feel myself pinched a little as she watches the numbers flick on her digital watch. I wait it out.
“And now, the catheter.”
“Yeah, the sixteen French.”
“Yes, it is,” Tech 2 responds.
“This part I don’t like.” Unh!
“Sorry, Mr. New. There! We have urine coming out, meaning we are in the right place. And this is where we had to stop last time, I believe.”
She goes silent for a minute. “Mr. New, I’m checking your urine again with the Dipstick, watching the Nitrate and Leukocyte reaction pads for the telltale color changes.”
The Dipstick is a plastic strip about an eighth of an inch wide by five inches long. On its business surface are ten or so pads, each one impregnated with specific chemicals for the detection of things in the urine. Things like red blood cells, protein, pH, specific gravity, glucose, bilirubin, nitrates, and leukocytes, among others. Most of these items should be absent from the urine. The pH and specific gravity should fall within normal ranges.
“Times up! Good news, Mr. New. You are negative for Nitrates and Leukocytes. We can proceed with the BCG.”
“That is good news. So we can launch the first BCG.”
“That’s correct. Here, let me hook up the bottle to the catheter, like so, and in it goes. See?”
Tech 2 holds up the BCG bottle for me to see. I watch air bubbles float to the top of the solution as it drains into me. Before calling me back into the Clinic, she had reconstituted the freeze-dried BCG with sterile saline (a specific salt-water solution). Now, I watch it dribble into my bladder.
“About how much is it?”
“That’s not much.”
“No, its not. But remember, Mr. New, you have to hold it inside you for at least two hours before peeing it out. Moreover, you have to treat the toilet water with two cups of straight Bleach, sitting for fifteen minutes, before you flush it. Right?”
“Right. I’m going straight home after this anyway.”
“Good. Okay, you have it all. Now, I’m sliding out the catheter, there you go. I’ll get you some washcloths, start some warm water, and leave you to change.”
She leaves the room.
I dress quickly and open the door.
“Okay, Mr. New. Have a good evening. Remember the rules. See you next Thursday.”
I nod. “Next Thursday.”
Final Result: One treatment down as I slosh my way home. New urine is already adding itself to the mix in my bladder.