The Pee Pee Story

Ever have someone tell you something about themselves that is so ridiculous that you are sure it's not true until you witness it yourself?

That was the case last night when one of my 20-year old post op patients told me that he hadn't voided in hours. A key event to watch for post op is the return of the innards working, mainly the pee pee and poo poo sections. The day shift nurse warned me that she had to straight cath him, meaning stick a rubber straw into his penis to drain the urine from his bladder. She told me he was a little shy. We both chalked it up to his young age, and older nurse, and the anesthesia. We were wrong.

Hours later, "Joe" complained of bladder fullness. I lead him to the bathroom so he could relieve himself. He told me he was sure he wouldn't be able to pee as he was shy. I shut the bathroom door and told him to give it a few minutes while his body regained control from the twilight drugs.

His mother met me out in the hallway and reiterated that he was shy about going to the bathroom in public. I looked at her and reminded her that his bathroom door was closed. She then told me, "No, Joe doesn't pee in public. He's been this way since he was a child."

Perplexed, I asked her exactly what she meant. Are you kidding me, lady? He's a guy for heaven's sake. They'll pee anywhere, I thought.

"Really. He will hold it all day so he can pee at home." What? This is crazy. What if he has to take the kids to the pool? He squeezes his cheeks together all day?

"Joe is shy. He's not going to be able to go. You'll have to cath him." Wait a minute. One of the girls who graduated with him told me he was voted best couple with his girlfriend. Captain of the football team. And he can't do his business unless he's on his own throne? Gosh, these people are weird. I always get the weird ones.

So I assured the mother and the patient who was unsuccessful at this attempt that he would pee by morning. I was wrong. Twice. Twice he asked me...ASKED me to catherize him. Now I know I'm not a guy but if I was a good-looking 20 year old football star I would not, under any circumstances, ask a stranger to shove a hard straw up my wiener.

He asked me, "If you cath me, would it embarrass you? I mean, would it freak you out or anything?" No, I told him, I could cath a watermelon and it wouldn't freak me out. I came close to telling him about the 400+ lb woman of whom my entire arm disappeared when I cathed her but I thought the mental picture might shrivel up his weiner so I was playing catch the turtle so I could cath.

As I had the death grip on his squirmy wee wee, he asked me if cathing him would permanently injure his manhood. This was the second time I cathed him in 12 hours. It was a little late to be worrying about his hot date next week.

Some of us joke that we rarely see any truly decent-looking male patients. I finally got one and he turned out to have penis psyche issues.

Manly, the 90 year old flirt

Manly is a 90 year old fella who is what we call a "frequent flyer". He's admitted about once every other month. He's a taller, thinner version of Spencer Tracy with a white shock of hair and a grin which makes all the girls fuss over him. Too bad he's a victim of Alzheimer's, my most hated medical enemy. Unlike many who suffer from this disease, he's quiet, non-threatening, and tries to be compliant. Well, at least for about twenty minutes at a time. Then the bed alarm warns us that Manly is climbing out, most certain to fall. He's had many falls and is quick as any five year old. But he never gets angry when we redirect him to bed.

"Manly, it's two a.m. It's time for bed, " we'll say.

"Oh, it is?"

Then he lets us tuck him back in...until he forgets and we repeat the process all over again. About twenty times a night. Every night until he goes back to live with his wonderful, caring son.

So one night cute-as-a-button Manly was up to his usual rail-climbing, paying no heed to the wailing bed alarm alerting us to his intent to wander.

I went in and resettled Manly and tucked him back under the covers. Manly beckoned me closer with a wave of his hand.

"What's up, Manly?" I said.

With a glint in his eye, he murmured, "So, are you in the mood?"

Stunned, I blurted out the first thing that came to mind, "No, Manly. Not tonight. I've got a headache."

I could hear the girls in the hallway trying to stifle their laughter.

"You do?" Manly asked, as disappointed as a guy on prom night whose date told him she was on her monthly.

"Yes, Manly. I do."

Manly thought a moment and said, "Are you sure?"

"Yes, Manly. Not tonight."

In a clear attempt to change my mind, Manly called me closer still and said, "I'm hung."

I bet that's what he said to all the girls....