Not that I want to hook myself to the catheter again (Heaven forbid). But it sure would be nice to get some decent sleep at night.
I’m here at my work table, melting like a snowman. My editor, Susan, says “Take a nap!” Sounds like a pretty good idea. But I do like to keep my hands in, day by day.
The catheter teaches your body, “Pee, schmee! Just cut loose–it all winds up in the catheter bag, which you can empty at your convenience.” I was hooked up for six weeks–plenty of time to absorb the mind-set.
So all night long I’m marching to and from the bathroom, and all I can do is pray God sets me back to normal soon. It’s using up my energy.
“Nap” is sounding better and better…
Oh, I know the drill now — not about (ahem) using the facilities, but about (a) retraining the body after medical alterations, and (b) finding a median between overdoing things until we turn into an exhausted sandbag and keeping moving to avoid turning into a guilt-ridden mushroom. I haven’t found that median yet myself. But then again, most of my life has been a matter of trial and error — mostly error. 🙄
Hymn request when you’re feeling up to it: “The Old Rugged Cross,” maybe by Alan Jackson?
I’ll post that this morning.
I’m certain that this will improve with time. This is one of the problems that prostate shaving is designed to solve.