Due to an unpleasant turn of events, my darling husband Jeff is now sporting the one "manly accessory" you'll never see in a GQ Magazine: a catheter. Nothing says Happy Holidays like a good case of Urinary Retention, eh? But guess what? Man up and be a brave soldier, because you're killing me with all this whining, Buster.
Now, we of the feminine persuasion all know that the very fact of being Male leaves one with very little Reserves of Strength when it comes to sickness of any kind: come on, we've all experienced the Man Cold: Worse. Cold. Ever. Men cave quickly, and go down heavy, straight to bed with lots of tissues and sad eyes, wishing their Mommy was there instead of you. Women, meanwhile, suck it up and Soldier On; who among us hasn't picked up kids from school, made dinner, helped with homework, and thrown kids in bed, all with the flu and a 103 degree fever? The "Weaker Sex" my ass.
So back to my husband and his Yule Log.
Unfortunately, Jeff is your classic "I'm not going to make it!" patient; imminent death or at the very least, lots of drama, are his go-to moves. It's exhausting. I keep telling him, he can't die and leave me here with the dachshund (who naturally has no trouble peeing at all, anywhere she damn well feels like it.)
OK, OK, so you have to wear a catheter; I personally would find that extremely helpful, since I wouldn't have to stop to pee while cleaning, cooking, shopping, and decorating. (And drinking. Don't forget about drinking.) He makes it sound like having that Thing in his Thing (technical, medical words that you probably don't understand) is a bad Thing... HA!
Tomorrow we go back to the urologist. ("There's money in pee" is how Jeff describes each trip.) If the Good Doctor tells us that Jeff has to keep this Thing in, let me tell you, it's not going to be pretty. There will be hand wringing and teeth gnashing, and that'll be just me: you mean I have to put up with his whining for another week? (Yes, Jeff calls me "Florence Nightmare" and sometimes... it's spot on.)
So since it's almost Christmas, here's my plan: if the catheter stays in, let's hang a little tinsel on the tubing.
After all, he's already got the balls.
