It's not a hole in one.

This post is graphic and grody and you might want to have a bucket of Clorox nearby to bleach out your corneas after you read it.  So now that you've been warned, if you still think you can handle it, then by all means read away.

Last weekend my IC (interstitial cystitis) was flaring like a mother.  I'm talking bladder and urethra were completely swollen (yes, i'm going to use medical terms here to at least sound intelligent which you will know is total and utter bull crap after you read the rest of my post).   I was having trouble urinating (peeing for those who don't like big words).   I tried an ice pack on my urethra but it didn't help.  Then I got into the bathtub.  By this point it was almost 2 am.  There I was hunched over the tub trying to squeeze out my pee...screw it, I just said pee. I'm going balls to the wall casual from this point out!

I got out of the tub and was still miserable so I pulled out the SpeediCaths that my urologist had given me to use in an emergency.  For those who have normal bladders and don't need a catheter (because unless you're 90, most normal people don't), a SpeediCath is a handy dandy pocket sized catheter that is shaped kind of a like a hard plastic tampon.

See the nice pretty box? Looks fairly harmless, right? 

So I pull and twist, and out pops the long, sharp, pointy, catheter thingy.  I opened the directions since i've never self-cathed myself before and there were like 3-4 steps and they seemed pretty basic.  Basically you pop the catheter into the uretha about 2 cm at a time until you feel some resistance in your b-hole (don't ask why, i'm just simply stating what's on the directions) and out comes the pee. I know you're all crossing your legs right about now and weeping.

After five kids, you would think that I would know my urethra from my vagina, correct?  WRONG. I stuck the catheter (no jammed is more like it) all the way into my vaginey.  Why?  Because i'm a genius, that's why.  No, seriously, I DON'T KNOW WHY I DO THE THINGS I DO!!!!

Not only did I not get out any urine, but when I pulled out the cath, and it was covered in blood.  Eeesh.  I was pretty sure that wasn't supposed to happen.  I started to freak.  I mean it was 2 am so I wrapped a towel around my naked body (I had previously been in the tub, remember?) and I sat my naked hiney on the computer chair (FYI, in case you're ever at my house, don't say I didn't warn you about the chair).   I started Googling like a madwoman about catheter accidents.  However, I couldn't find a single thing!  Why?  Because NO ONE with half a brain sticks a catheter into their vagina, that's why!!!!

So, I went back into the bathroom with tears streaming down my face.  I was convinced I had perforated my uterus and sudden death was imminent.   I sat down on the toilet and tried to pee.  I figured maybe i'd get lucky and dodge a bullet and i'd be able to pee and everything would be fine.  No such luck.  I thought I was peeing, but when I peered into the toilet bowl all I saw was blood.  OH MY GOD, I was dying! DYING!!!!  By this point I was in an all out panic.  I'm stumbling around the dark bedroom (my boys were sleeping in my bed), trying to find undies, socks, pants, etc so I could drive myself to the emergency room.  The hubby was just standing there with this, "I can't believe you really did that" look on his face.  He wasn't able to go with me because the kids were sleeping and to be honest, I don't think he wanted the hospital staff to know he was the husband of the woman who jammed a catheter into the wrong hole.

I got to the hospital and waddled inside.  I don't have a quiet voice. It carries.  I started explaining the story to the receptionist (loudly).  By this point I could feel ALL eyes on me.  People in the waiting room were staring at me and whispering things like, "She stuck a what in her vagina?"   Apparently all you have to do to get speedy service in an ER is tell them you tried to self cath yourself and you're bleeding profusely because I was taken immediately back into an exam room, which pretty much NEVER happens.

Once I was back in the exam room, I had to keep re-telling my story to the many nurses who were coming in and out of my room.   There I was huddled under a thin, papery sheet that was probably peed on by the previous homeless bum who was using the ER to nap in.   Not to mention the beds inside the ER feel like they're constructed out of cardboard.  I'm not sure the ER doc I saw understood the point of my visit as she kept saying, "So you have blood in your urine?"  I tried to explain many times, "No, I don't have blood in my urine because I didn't actually stick the catheter INTO my bladder" but she didn't understand.  Basically all they did in the ER was drain my bladder with a catheter (they got the right hole by the way), and then test my urine for an infection (which was negative of course).   I was never given an exam which kinda sucks because i'm still bleeding and was told to go back in if i'm bleeding 24 hours later.  Part of me is too afraid to go back in.  The other part is too humiliated.  I would love to know what they wrote in my chart.  For example if I do have to return are they going to be huddled in a group whispering, "The moron who stuck a SpeediCath into her vagina is back."