#20 Sep 19 a.m.

The catheter tube is running down into a plastic box that sits inside a big plastic bag attached to the side of bed.  The liquid within looks to be rather dark; not dangerously dark, but not normal. I wonder if it’s something I should be concerned about. My abdomen is more distended than last night.  Maybe it’s just gravity working against sliced, sore muscles. There’s no way that I can try to hold it in so I throw my self-consciousness out the window and let it all hang out.  It feels like something is going to fall out while I’m standing there, so I cradle my bulging gut with my right hand. One nurse gets the I.V. bag, another gets the unfortunate task of hoisting the bag of urine, one of them takes my arm and we start to walk.

This is not easy.  Every step is awkward and unsteady, but I make it out the door and face the challenge of getting down the hall.  The plastic catheter tube is making its presence known and I try not to disturb it with my movements.  Things actually get a bit easier with each step.  After about 15 paces my nurse advises that it’s enough for a first walk and we turn around and I limp my way back to bed. I’m exhausted, but I made it.  I resolve to tackle one challenge at a time.  Getting into bed is much easier this time so I must be getting stronger.  I feel better knowing that. 

When lunch time comes I’m granted some clear chicken broth with orange Jello for dessert.  It’s not real food, but that tiny container of orange jelly is the best-tasting thing I’ve had since Monday - actually it’s the only thing I’ve had since Monday. I’m looking forward to something a little more substantial for dinner; actual solid food maybe.

When lunch is done and cleared away my nurse comes in to remove the catheter. Curtains are pulled around the edge of my bed to offer some privacy from the passersby in the hallway. It’s a bit embarrassing for me to have this person I don’t know working down there.  She is very matter-of-fact, though, and talks gently about what she’s doing while she uses a plastic syringe to remove water through a valve located on the side of the rubber tubing.  This will deflate the balloon inside my bladder that is holding things up.  The catheter escapes without me feeling anything. When she’s done and gone I realize that things could have been even more unsettling if it had been someone I knew or might see again.  Not a nice thing to go through, but necessary.  Now I can put on some pants.