Bummer Redux

Today was the day to have my fifth bladder ‘procedure.’ It was the third time he was to do the ‘procedure’ in his office with a local anesthetic, saving me the hassle of a general anesthetic hospital ‘procedure.’ So I went in to get it done.

Turns out he couldn’t do it. He uses a rigid scope to go up my dick (you’re excused if you want to stop here) and cut it out rather than the flexible scope he uses for the exam that discovers the little buggers. Trouble this time was the location was such that the scope couldn’t get to it.

So after all the stuff that precedes the cutting and which, cutting aside, leaves one violated and hurting, no payoff this time. I have to go to the hospital to have it done. Shit! I’m definitely not happy about it. My first two ‘procedures’ were in the hospital and the process was a pain in the ass. Well, not exactly the ass, but in an area nearby. I was left with a catheter for several days and much more of a recovery period that with the office ‘procedures.’

Did I say I’m not happy about it? I’ll get my head straightened around soon, and get back to my context-creating philosophical self, but not likely today. Today I’ll indulge in feeling sorry for myself. And having a sore dick.

P.S. I think it’s fair to wonder why Larry (Dr.) wouldn’t have figured out in advance that he wouldn’t be able to get to it with a rigid scope, but blaming him won’t change anything.