Lockjaw

On Monday I went to the doctor to have a urethroscopy, which was about as much fun as it sounds. (I told Cello that I had to go to the doctor again, and he said, "anything with 'oscopy' in it can't be good . . .") Anyway, basically the doctor used a scope to look at my urethra and bladder to see if it was actually prolapsed or if my uterus was pressing on it. Well, they know that that's happening, they just didn't know if that was all that was happening.

It was another one of those "good news/bad news" kind of things--he said that my bladder "drops a little bit" when I cough (he had me cough to demonstrate this), but that it's minor and it still may be due to the pressure thing. He said he though it was worthwhile to be conservative and do the LAVH (see? I'm learning all kinds of new terminology!) ("laparoscopically-assisted vaginal hysterectomy," I think) rather than the abdominal surgery and then "see what happens."

I was disappointed that there was any bladder involvement at all, but I appreciate the fact that he didn't just decide to do the abdominal and take care of everything at once. Of course, I hope that I don't have to have another surgery a few years down to the road--which he said might happen--but I think it makes sense to go cautiously on this, if that's even possible at this point.

Bob went with me; I didn't really feel like I needed to have someone with me, but I did want him to meet the surgeon, and this would have been the only opportunity before I go to the hospital. And it definitely was nice to have someone's hand to clutch during scary and/or painful moments. At one point the doctor said, "Now this is going to feel like I'm filling your bladder up with carbon dioxide gas," and I said, "And that's because?" "Because that's what I'm doing!"

I do like the doctor. He's personable, a little bit of a smart aleck, he doesn't talk down to me, he explains things, he's obviously competent. It turns out that he trained under someone that we used to know--Bob's best friend's father, who was a ob-gyn. Having friends in common is also good--it gives you a way to check someone out!

Anyway . . . he gave me a couple of antibiotic capsules to take to ensure that the procedure didn't give me a bladder infection, and a couple of pills intended to stop pain and bladder spasms once the novocaine wore off--and oh man! The novocaine wasn't a shot (Bob says), but it sure stung like one. It was about 48 hours before it stopped hurting to pee. I was telling Bob that every time I had to go, it was like my bladder would say, "OWWWWW!" Only I was saying it more like James Brown would. Pyewacket didn't like that. Loud, sharp noises get her all agitated--I'm surprised she didn't run over and bite me, like she did one time when I was yelling at Dinah . . .

Someone who has to have these tests all the time wrote and told me what to expect, and I was grateful for that. She told me to drink something right after the test--she said you just need to make yourself go right after--so as soon as we got home I drank a Diet Coke, and I just tried not to dread it every time, and each time it probably got a little better although, as I said, it took a couple of days for the pain to completely go away.

I had plans to go out to dinner with some women that I used to work with that night, and all I really wanted to do was go to bed, but I laid down for an hour or so, then got back up, brushed my teeth and my hair, and went out. I really did have a good time. We meet once or twice a year, usually once at Christmas and once sometime in the summer, and it's always nice to see them and get the good gossip from the ones that still work at the company.

Bob and I went to dinner last night--our annual Plaza visit to see the lights and do a little Christmas shopping. We really didn't do any shopping, though, because there really aren't very many interesting shops left there--they're all pretty much very high-end, expensive stores--all of the funky little shops are gone, I think. But we had a good time anyway. We had decided where to meet--Fred P. Ott's--but Bob didn't know where it was, and I told him wrong.

He ended up walking way out of his way, and it was raining, and he got shook down for $10 by a guy with a sad story, and a group of pre-teen girls asked him to take their picture in front of a fountain, so he had adventures. After dinner, we went to the bookstore, and that was pretty much it. It would have been nicer if it had been snowing rather than raining, but it was fun nonetheless.

This week had been spent mostly working, trying to get some stuff done before the end of the week/year, and trying to get Christmas stuff accomplished. It's always a rush for me, although admittedly this year isn't quite as bad, because I really did start early. I started knitting way back in the summer, and I've also bought things here and there, so there isn't quite the big push I normally have. There's still a lot of stuff to do, though.

We don't have a tree yet, but I think Bob's going to take care of that this week. I couldn't put lights outside because after we had the house painted, we got a new light fixture, and I can't camp onto the outlet to plug in an electrical cord like I've done in the past. Oh, and we're having our roof replaced this week!

We came home from vacation to find that they'd started working on it, then we got a foot or so of snow, of course. Fortunately, I guess they anticipated bad weather and rather than rip off all the roof at once, they did it in sections--rip off one section, then replace it before they moved on.

I don't know if last night was exceptionally windy or what, but I must have woken up twenty times in the night to the noise of something being blown off the roof, banging in various spots before sailing off into the yard. I didn't know what it was at first, and was too sleepy to really process it, but I kept thinking, "What is that sound?" Bob finally came in and said, "There's stuff blowing off the roof," so I at least knew what it was. Didn't stop me from waking up, though, of course.

Apparently they're doing the big push today, madly ripping and nailing and throwing things off. Bob bought a magnetic broom--just a big magnet on a stick, I guess--that he's going to use in the yard after they're finished, to pick up nails so I don't step on one and get lockjaw in the spring.

It's always something.