Category Archives: Bladder

My weak bladder was filled with gas on purpose

A list of options for urinary incontinence

After three kids, and old age creeping up on me, my bladder has become, let us say weaker. It doesn’t hold as much as it used to, or if it does, then trouble ensues. Most women can relate to this, you go to get up and oh, surprise, surprise, we have leakage, or one of your young adult children scares the bejeebers out of you, and oh surprise, surprise more leakage, only this time you have to run upstairs for a change of clothes. Damn kids making you laugh.

Now I realize most men don’t want to hear about their wives/girlfriends/partners having a bladder problem. Well guys, sorry in this case, I blame 50% of the problem on you. Why? You got us pregnant, and no matter how many of those darn Keagle exercises I did, the bladder still would not cooperate.

So a couple of weeks ago, I went to see a Doctor that specializes in Urinary Incontinence, god how freaking embarrassing is that? By the sound of it, I should be wearing a diaper, you know those ones that are now advertised on television, like your period pads, like it’s no big deal that you need to wear a diaper at age 54! Just for the record, I do not wear a diaper! Okay, back to my doctor visit, she was, alright is a lovely woman (with an odd desire to help women who pee themselves). First there is the obligatory medical history with the nurse, meaning did I bring along my list of medication, because I can never remember the names of the pills I take every morning & night (for the last god knows how many years) so I can have a maybe less painful day. Oh “you must be constipated with those meds” she says, gee thanks for the reminder that I can’t poo on a regular basis, but heck I can pee if you make me laugh.

With the history completed, the nurse explains that I am going to go behind that curtain over there, remove my lower half of clothing, but you may keep your socks on, because peeing has nothing to do with your feet, unless of course you dribble down your leg, and voila you have now peed on your feet. Then lay down on the bed, put your feet in the stirrups, like you are riding that imaginary horse with your true love…that might be another story. Then the doctor will come in the room, and the fun will be begin!

So there I am with my feet in the stirrups, riding the imaginary horse when the doctor bursts that bubble and tells me she is going to fill my bladder up with gas, and no matter how much I want to pee, I have to hold in the gas because it isn’t pee, while she watches the monitor (yeah there is a camera on the tube she inserted into my urinary tract, up into my bladder which fucking hurts but hey only for a minute).

Then she starts to fill my bladder with gas. At first no big deal, I can handle this, I feel like I want to pee, but it’s not pee as I try to remember. Then oh my fucking god!!! The pain!!! I am holding the nurse’s hand, which I am pretty sure is near bone breakage. I’m crying, and swearing while the nurse is telling me to breathe like I’m having a baby. Well let me tell you ladies, this is nowhere near like you are having a baby, why? Because you don’t get the baby.

What seems like an eternity (but in actuality is only a few minutes), the doctor gets the images she wants, and the gas in my bladder, which I was 100% positive was going to be sent flying into the stars is released. I am saved, I know longer want to harm the doctor, but now I want water, I’m dehydrated. Go figure.

She has me grab the sheet, come on over here, and we will have a chat, for some odd reason I can’t take a few minutes to get dressed. First she says I have stress urinary incontinence, and a week bladder neck. Okay, I’m pretty sure I knew that. My options. This is where I laugh (no peeing though). Keagle exercises (honestly do they work, no, even my own family doctor agreed with that, and he’s not female). Next option: medication, but I’m already on quite a bit, they cost a lot, and are not covered by OHIP (our government plan). Thirdly, a Pessary Device can be inserted into the bladder neck, but it apparently only has a 50% success rate, and requires changing every few months, it can fall out, and costs $75 each time. Lastly surgery – a TVT which is a tension free mesh device is sewn into the bladder neck. This has a 90% success rate and a 1% chance of erosion, it is an outpatient surgery procedure with a two week recovery.

This is a lot to take in, I tell her I want to chat with my husband, when really I just want to get dressed because now I’m cold. I get home, and tell hubby all about my bladder being filled up with gas. Apparently though my bladder leakage problem is not something he really wants to hear about? Fine, but he reluctantly listens, where it takes him a minute to say, go for the surgery, end the peeing.

I most likely will go have the surgery done, but I will have to wait till the young man moves back home for the summer. This way there is someone else to help around the house when hubby is at work. (Oh I did share this information with the young man, but like his dad, he really didn’t want to hear about my peeing).

The bed frame and weak bladder

This past weekend we drove middle child and her puppy back to university. After an eleven and a half hours of driving we were exhausted, but hubby still had to move all her belongings back into the apartment she is renting. Middle child went to open up the apartment door which neither her nor her roommate had occupied since the end of April. When she walked in she was hit with a blast of heat, her roommate had apparently left the heat on at thirty celsius, and to make matters worse, someone had left two Tupperware containers of goodness knows what rotting under the couch. The smell was stifling! Immediately we opened all the windows and screen door. After an hour of moving her belongings, resting with a cold beer or two, it was time to hit the sack. Middle child kindly gave us her bed to sleep in. The room was still boiling so I nicely gave hubby the side close to the window, which in hindsight was a bad move since I have a very weak bladder and am usually up three or four times a night to visit the washroom.

When I woke the first time, I did not want to crawl over hubby since he was finally sleeping soundly, bad mistake, because for middle child’s birthday we had purchased her a lovely, but large metal bed frame. The bed frame was a perfect fit for her box spring and mattress but also meant it was quite high off the ground. If you happen to remember learning to ride your first boys bike, you will of course remember the medal bar from the seat to the handle bars. So with that in mind, I am trying to crawl over the large, though beautiful metal frame, only to find that the ground is a lot further than my foot can reach. I slip, screaming as my privates are slammed into the bed frame, and now of course, since I have had three children, my bladder is not as tight as it should be, leakage occurs. Hubby naturally awakens asking what the hell I am trying to do? I mumble some very strong curse words as I hobble to the washroom with a change of clothes. When I eventually make it back to bed, hubby has nicely moved to the wall side, so I can easily exit the bed the next time I get up.

Photo courtesy of Ikea