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My Ball and Chain

After surgery and time in the recovery room, they moved me to a semi-private room up on the sixth floor. I was a bit out of it but did realize that I had a roommate. I swear I must have kept her up all night whining about my pain. Fortunately for her, she was discharged the next morning. My stay was private from that point on.
I woke up on Friday morning to find that my “Johnny” was all wet in the front. This was odd, as I had a catheter in, and anyway I was pretty sure a woman can’t pee forward. I buzzed for the nurse and had her check it out. She thought that my “pain booster” or my incision might be leaking. Great, I thought. I didn’t even know I had a “pain booster.” Just what I needed!
They sent in a resident to check it out. A tall blonde named Dr. Sing (I’ve changed her name to protect the innocent). She was really nervous and unsure of herself as she poked at my stomach. I was getting a little nervous too. I told her that if she wasn’t sure what was wrong, she didn’t have to touch the trouble spot. I didn’t mind being wet, I told her.
She checked with the doctor and came back to say that my “pain booster” might be leaking a bit, but the doctor wanted to keep it in. What was this “pain booster” thing she was talking about? I couldn’t budge my head enough to see what was on my stomach, so the mystery continued.
That afternoon they took out the catheter and said I should get up to pee. Yeh right. Getting up was hard enough, never mind walking over to that bathroom halfway across Connecticut.
With help from my nurse, I sat up and was immediately drawn back down to the pillow by some weight in the bed. When the nurse asked, “What’s wrong?” I said, “Something is dragging me under.” We looked under the sheets and found a ball about the size of a large Christmas ornament with a tube leading under my Johnny. “Oh, this must be the pain booster,” said my knowledgeable nurse. “I’ve never actually seen one of these before.”
Great, I thought. Dr. Sing is jittery, and my knowledgeable nurse just found out what a “pain booster” looks like. I’m in good hands here!
I figured out that in order for me to move anywhere, my ornament must come with me. When I picked it up, I realized it weighed two or three pounds, which felt more like ten at the time. So with my right hand on my moving drug cart and the ball in my left hand, I was escorted to the bathroom miles away with my backside showing to the whole sixth floor. Hey, I thought, if people think my backside is bad, they should take a look at my front!
When I got to the throne, I again realized something troubling. The amount of tubing connecting me to the ball was only about eight inches long. This wasn’t nearly enough line to set the ball on the floor while peeing. So what was a girl to do? Pee one handed was my Day One answer.
On Day Two I got smarter. While I was sitting there holding my ball and chain, I saw a paper bag hanging from the wall next to the toilet. Though it was a small bag, I thought it was big enough to hold my ball. But was it strong enough? I couldn’t quite reach the bag, so I tossed my ball in, risking my life—if the ball made the bag fall to the ground, I would be pulled off the toilet. The bag held tight. I called my nurse in and told her I had found a ball-holder. She immediately reinforced the bag by putting more tape on the wall and patted me on the back for being so creative. I was feeling pretty proud of myself at that point.

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