Bladder Blog #4

I’m back from 10 days in California. During that time I watched the Super Bowl with Anna (ok, the last 3 minutes anyway); shopped for and cooked a birthday dinner (ok, Liza made the dinner) for my friend Tanya; called on my first grocery chain and talked about banana and tomato programs; went to the produce market with Liza; went to the flower market and put together 15 wedding centerpieces with Anna (ok, she designed them, I just copied); spent the night with my friends Betty and Bob; set up the wedding flowers; consulted on some advertising plans; had my hair cut (thank you, B!); went to a mall (twice!); did 2 store produce department site visits; washed and dried most of my clothes with a lipstick, and drove 8 hours each way there and back. Oh yeah, and had another botox treatment. And I’m wondering why I’m so tired!

I think I may have finally nailed it. I had a prescription for Ativan from my solu-medrol roid rage experience and I asked Dr. G if it would be ok if I took some prior to the treatment. Generally he gives me a little valium and I squirm and gasp and cry and cuss, despite it, and we both agree that we are not BFFs for those 15 minutes. So when I asked him about the bigger daddy Adavan, he said, “oh yes. Please do.” I took 2.

Although it was Anna’s turn to accompany me on this visit, Liza came with me instead. As an EMT, she is a virtual rock when it comes to anything medical procedure related, whereas Anna is more like me, squealing at a pinprick of blood. Bright girl that she is, she brought in an LA Times crossword puzzle book and proceeded to yell out clues which all 4 of us in the room were yelling out answers to. It proved a wonderful distraction. I was also stoned out of my mind.

I only yelled out the answer “F*** you!” (or variations on that theme) about 4 times. Considering the names I’ve shouted at Dr. G during past procedures, we all agreed that was pretty good.

So now I’m back home in Tubac, worn out and sleepy. But I’m wearing a thong.

Can You See Me, Now!?

I really lucked out in the family department. My immediate family is loving, supportive and most importantly, really funny. My brother Dave has a rapier wit, my sister Lisa has a flair for the absurd, and if you look up witty in the dictionary, you might see a picture of my mom Jeannie. Suffice it to say we are all corny, smart, sassy, clever, somewhat droll and more than a little irreverent.

Well, the apple didn’t fall far from the family tree, and my 4 nephews and 2 daughters are all pretty darn funny by their own merits. In particular, my baby Elizabeth is one of those people that can get you to snort liquid out of your nose with one single look. She is down right hilarious and her timing is excellent.

On my two Dr. visits earlier this week, I was enormously pleased to find that Liza had changed her work schedule so she could accompany me. We grabbed a coffee and headed over to USC for an ultrasound of my kidneys and bladder (a precursor to the actual Botox treatment which will be taking place in 3 weeks). We took an LA Times crossword puzzle book to pass the time and had a great time laughing over words we made up and just generally being silly as we usually are.

After a delicious lunch at an outside cafe in Pasadena, we headed over to see to my neurologist Dr. S. Now, I adore Dr. S. I keep going to him despite the fact that he is the absolute worst when it comes to waiting. This time, it took us over 2 hours past my scheduled appointment time before we got in to see him. We had our usual discussion about my hirple, how the solu-medrol worked and so on; I did my tip toe walk up and back and then we moved into the exam room. Liza of course came in with me, that’s the point of her coming along after all.

First thing she does when the door is closed is start nosing around. While I’m getting into a gown, she is picking things up and looking at them. She finds these glasses sitting on the counter and immediately puts them on. I’m cracking up, just a Dr. S. comes in. He begins to do the exam and fortunately for me I can’t see Elizabeth who is behind his back. Wearing the glasses. Taking pictures.

Once the exam is over Dr. S. retreats to his office and tells us to join him once I’m put back together. He has no idea that there is NO WAY I can put myself together after Liza shows me the pictures of her in the glasses. We manage to bumble back to his office where he prescribes me a new medication called Baclofen to aid in my walking.  I was biting the inside of my cheek trying hard not to laugh and missed the instructions on how to take the medication all together.

I gave Dr. S. the URL to this blog. Kind sir, if you are reading this, please forgive our irreverence. Liza remembered the instructions for the meds and we meant you no disrespect. You have to admit though, she looks pretty damn funny in these glasses.

Newly Diagnosed

I’ve been here in California for the last week and will be coming back regularly for the next few months, so if my posts are sporadic that’s why. I’m back doing Dr appointments with both Dr G. and Dr S. and will report on those visits soon.

Elizabeth took the day off from driving the ambulance to spend the day with me (bless her heart ~ it makes these Dr. days so much more fun) and during the course of the day she told me her friend’s girlfriend was just diagnosed with MS last week. She is in her mid 20s. Her friend (let’s call him Cody as I can’t remember his name) told Liza he was so scared, and she said to him “you’ve been reading everything you can find, huh”. He confirmed they’ve both been Googling like mad.

It’s a fine line. Newly diagnosed, you want to find out everything you can and education is critical in dealing with your new condition. I did the same thing and read books like the catheterizing MonSter ladies book and it terrified me more than I already was.

I’m glad I don’t travel much anymore because the hype about bed bugs alone is enough to keep me from ever sleeping anywhere ever again. I’ve already burned my suitcase, all my coats and my bed because as the news reports, they are everywhere! I’ve started brushing my teeth 4 times per day for 2 minutes each time as apparently bad gums will give me a heart attack. I need to consider going braless as my bra is restricting my lymph nodes and raising my risk of breast cancer.

You get the idea. For the newly diagnosed I don’t even recommend reading this blog. The whole bladder Botox thing, the scooter, the steroid infusions…it is all scary shit! When it comes in a natural progression you’ll discover how resilient and strong you really are.

My advice: take a deep breath, read at a gentle pace (unfortunately, you’re in it for the long haul…plenty of time to research), process slowly, go have a long sleep, and don’t let the bedbugs bite.

Bladder Blog #3 ~ We’re Live from LA!

In my last post I mentioned not having any dignity, that’s BS. I have lots of  dignity, but zero modesty left, as you will soon find out. One more time: graphic content warning!

Well now it’s weeks later and I am one happy continent girl (is that the opposite of incontinent?). The hideousness of the injections are a thing of the past ~ like childbirth, the end result is so amazing you forget the discomfort. I go in for a follow up visit and…oh, no, really? In a nutshell it goes like this: put on a gown, wire up again like before (only this time all the tubes are connected to a computer), drink a bunch of liquid, sit on a chair with a hole in it and a bucket underneath, and wait to pee. Makes sense, this is an experimental clinical trial after all.

Oh yes. Lest I forget…. in the room with me in this rather indelicate position are: Dr. G, his nurse, the clinical trial coordinator, the clinical trial nurse, two visiting doctors and Anna. Seven people. All chatting like they are at a cocktail party about which movies they’d seen lately, who won the game on Sunday, future vacation plans. Meanwhile I’m on this jerry-rigged porta-potty in a hospital gown relishing the absurdity of it all and waiting to take a piss.

Eventually I pee, the computer monitors it, everyone puts down their martini glasses, I get $250 for my troubles, and Anna and I skedaddle as fast as possible on out of there.

Fast forward a few months. I get a call from Dr. G which is unusual in and of itself, but his reason for calling is even more unexpected. It seems KTLA or one of the local stations has gotten wind of the fact that he is heading up this new use for Botox and wants to interview him on a health segment. “Well, that’s dandy!” I say, innocently. He then goes on to explain that the station wants to talk to a patient in the trial, and he figures I’m the only one in the group with both the elan and the cojones to do it.

Now I’ve never been too shy, but this is pushing it, even for me. I take some time to think it over and realize that a) the whole point of a clinical trial is to hopefully help people who are suffering b) I have already sat through a gathering where the main event was me peeing in a bucket and c) the whole thing is so preposterous, why the hell not. I can only hope none of my clients watch afternoon TV, because I do question the professionalism of my decision.

The day I’m scheduled to do the interview, Paris Hilton comes to my rescue. She manages to get herself arrested and all the news crews flock to the scene of this hot breaking story. I have to agree, even Paris is more interesting than my bladder, and certainly a better news draw. Saved!

Not so fast. They are adamant to cover this story. A week or so later, a cameraman and a reporter come to my home office and interview me there.  They take pictures of the cover of the magazine I work for (gulp), state my name (double gulp) and put the camera in my face (gasp!). So here I am now talking about my lack of bladder control on a TV camera. Does this not explain why it’s not so hard for me to approach this topic anymore?

As it turns out, the only person I know of who saw it was some friend of Anna’s (“Hey, I think I saw your mom on TV the other day!”). Lucky for me.

And so ends this initial episode of the Bladder Blog. Unfortunately, it is an ongoing saga and I may post more on it as I am inclined. My intention was not to make anyone uncomfortable, but rather to share my experiences outright for those of you reading this who suffer the same issues and indignities as I have. The whole topic is tricky but know that you are not alone!

Bladder Blog #2 ~ Pins and Needles

So we left me in San Diego with my sister playing with catheters. I know you’re dying to know what is next, and as promised, here we go. Again: be forewarned. This is an awkward topic and I’m telling it like it happened and it gets a little gnarly.

So Dr. G comes in on my next visit (I’m going to say this is in early  2006 or so) and virtually sings out, “We’ve got options!”. Imagine my anticipation and delight if you can. He goes on to explain a new clinical trial he is heading whereby people who suffer from incontinence due to neurological issues or spinal injuries can partake of injections of Botox into their bladder.

Hmmmm. Let’s think on this a minute. Go ahead and let your imagination run free….no matter how you spin it you’re going to come up with pretty much exactly what is going happen. Well by now, I’m a total pro at the catheter thing, so how bad can this be? The end result means I might be able to wear a thong again, so it will be so worth it. Right?

Let’s do it. I sign on and have an ultrasound done, sign some paperwork and fill out a lengthy questionnaire. Due to incontinence am I depressed? Embarrassed? Hindered in daily activity? Concerned about catheterizing all the time? Well geez, I wasn’t until they brought it up!

I schedule the appointment for the procedure and take Anna with me (the girls take turns with who goes with me). They insert lots of various tubes in various openings and then douse some of those openings with Lidocaine to numb them. Then Dr. G comes in and inserts a camera (by which he informs me I can watch the progress of the events as they are happening on a monitor nearby. Um, no thanks.) Without being too much more graphic (although I DID warn you) I am injected multiple times in my bladder with the Botox.

According to Dr. G, 99% of the patients in the trial feel minimum discomfort. Need I tell you what percentage I fell into? I actually went into a little bit of shock. Shivering, crying, wobbly, that kind of thing. It didn’t last long though and there was no lingering discomfort, so off we went.

What follows is urinary bliss. People who don’t suffer from anything related to going #1 take it so for granted, as did I for years. Why would you not? We’ve all be peeing since birth (although in a diaper I might add…I’m just sayin’) and it’s a natural no-brainer. All of a sudden within days I was back like a semi-normal person, no longer like one of those people in the TV commercials whose whole life revolves around running from bathroom to bathroom.

Per the clinical trial expectations, the Botox is supposed to help for 6-9 months. Fortunately for me, I also feel into the 1% and mine lasted for 16 months. Damn good thing too, because I dread going back (I’m headed to California next month for my 4th treatment). I will be taking a thong to wear home though.

That’s the end of installment #2 of the Bladder Blog. Next is when I take it on local TV (come on, you didn’t really think I had one shred of dignity left, did you?). Stay tuned (pun intended).