Sunday Stroke Survival: Incontinence? Nope. It's Worse!

When you talk about incontinence, you mainly think about the bladder. When you talk about bowel incontinence, it's something else entirely. I don't have this problem except in cases of diarrhea. But even the "norms" have a control issue with this, don't they? During these times, even they wish they had diapers to save wear and tear of their clothes, and embarrassment of accidents. But I'm already in them.

I had a incident this past weekend that caused me some real concern. Of course it happened over the weekend, it's an addendum to the old Murphy's Law. If something happens when you need your PCP, it'll happen on a weekend, holiday, or night when his/her office is closed. Then, you you have to weigh your options under is it bad enough to warrant an ER visit.

Now being a former emergency medical professional, I weigh this differently than most people. It's more of a question of "will it kill me if I wait until Monday?" I don't use the ER frivolously at any time after normal business hours. Things like a cut that needs stitches to close with bleeding I can't control by other means, broken bones besides fingers and toes, or true medical emergencies like heart attack or a stroke...all of these require emergency services.

 (this is gross, but true)
The event of the weekend just barely fell in both category. I decided to wait until Monday. As is my usual habit, my bowels decided to do it's weekly or biweekly purge...slight constipation (hard stone like bowel movement), followed by a couple of normal movements, and ending with a couple of really loose movements. This is not true diarrhea, but diarrhea type movements as a way to finish purging my bowels.

Except this time was different. By the time I reached by two loose stool movements there was blood tinged mucous. The cramping (I now feel it just under my rib cage in my back) didn't stop. This was highly unusual. After I walked the bathroom and sit on the commode, the cramping got so bad I vagaled. (profuse sweating, dizziness, low BP, hot flash, a high heart rate). Instead of the expected bowel movement I passed huge bloody mucous blobs. The bloody parts were bright red which told me it was a rectal vein.

This continued through the night. By Saturday, I couldn't pass gas without spewing blood. If it got any worse, I'd go to the ER otherwise I'd wait until Monday to see my PCP. By Saturday evening, the mucousy blood movements stopped, but were replaced by blood clots. So whatever ruptured inside was trying to heal in spite of my blood thinners. When you are on blood thinners, you can expect to bleed more heavily than normal. I was thinking that was the case here.

By Sunday evening, I had two incidents of passing clots and it finally stopped. All during this time I ate and drank normally. I applied witch hazel patches to my anal area to shrink whatever was it was causing the bleeding. So, it wasn't like I wasn't doing nothing. At no time did the bleeding turn darker, like an upper GI bleed, nor more profuse other than I described.

Caveat here, I am a trained emergency medical professional. I do know when the abnormal turns critical and warrants further intervention of others. If you are not, by all means, go to the ER.At times, the thought of going through my mind and I would have if the symptoms gotten worse than what I experienced, or hadn't slowed, or if the amount of blood was greater than a monthly menstrual cycle. I would definitely carried my unhappy hinny to the hospital, I'm not stupid. I just don't panic in "emergency" type situations. I observe and evaluate first as I was taught.

I know from experience that the ER would have done a wait and observe the progress with a possible admission for the weekend. With a cleansing ritual to prepare for a scope or colonoscopy for the regular work week. Been there, done that, and don't want to go through that again. The only conclusion the internist could make after that fact was that the area in question was healed or healing on it's own and ordered a stool softener for a week. I've got plenty of stool softeners here after the surgeries of spring and summer if I need it.

By using prior knowledge, I saved myself a ER visit, possible admission, a colonoscopy and a bunch sheer aggravation of wasted money. But yes, I will appraise my PCP about this when I see him next week.

Nothing is impossible.

Sunday Stroke Survival: Incontinence Revisited

Since my first Baclofen pump surgery in April, the marginal bladder control I had, since my first stroke, is gone. I used to feel the urge to go and make to the bathroom in time except for a little dribble. To handle this, I wore a pad. It worked well for almost 6 years.

To be honest, I had stress incontinence long before my stroke, but this was corrected by a sling  placement during the surgery to remove five tumors from my abdomen in 2006. The sling ruptured in 2013. My signal time to go and leakage dropped to 1 minute...about the time I could make it to the bathroom and not have an accident. The signal cue was delayed by my loosing sensory feeling in my peritoneal area with my first stroke. I now take my cues from my belly button. At the time, I was on Lasix also which only compounded the problem.

Since the trauma to the nerves in my lower spine during the baclofen pump placement, that cue of have to go to bathroom dropped to 3 seconds. I could barely stand up and get my legs straight when the flood started. It was no longer a trickle, but bladder emptying gushes of urine with every step with very little control. I made the decision to go back into diapers, or pull ups. Immediately I noticed a huge difference in price for a month's worth. The pull ups were cheaper than the Always pads I was buying. I was honestly surprised by this. The gushes being handled had the benefit of no more clothing changes, 3 or 4 showers daily, embarrassing accidents, and mental stress relief.

Now I know all about kegel exercises, timed bladder emptying, etc. I've worked on it all since April trying to get control of my bladder to no avail. With the pump removal, the trauma to those sensory nerves has doubled. I no longer have that cue at my belly button. Even with timed bladder emptying and fluid restriction, a gush can happen within 30 minutes after fully and conscientiously emptying my bladder. There is no controlling it or reteaching my bladder right now. So adult diapers are a necessity. I can accept that. Have I a choice, no. At least I've got my bowel control back after a month long battle with diarrhea (caused by a low fiber diet and meds they had me on) after my hospital stay.

So I've currently given up on my bladder control issues for the time being. I've got bigger irons in the fire that demand my immediate attention. Knowing from previous spinal traumas, it will take four to six months for the trauma to heal. By then, God willing, I'll have a new pump implanted setting the clock back again. I'm in no hurry. You can't fight your body's healing time. Every body heals differently and I know mine. I'm the Queen of Abby Normal, I take the maximum time to heal, and then some. I look at the time to heal as guidelines. Some heal faster and some heal slower, I'm a snail. I always have been since I hit forty and became an insulin dependent diabetic. Now that the diabetes is no more, I'm still a slow healer. Go figure.


I know I've said spinal trauma several times in this post. To me, due to my training, trauma is damage or shock to my spine. An intrusion or insult of a foreign substance, that causes pain and swelling displacing a normal condition. A catheter was fed from my lower spine to my cervical spine. For my height, that's almost a foot and a half.  The incision point, the insertion of the catheter, in the implantation they had oi chip a piece of my spine to anchor the leads, and stitches to hold everything in place. Plus, the catheter puts pressure along the spinal cord. All of that was traumatizing my spine and spinal cord.

Now with the pull ups, I can get up, and do within reason without having urine running down my legs by the time I get to the bathroom. I'm still in the recovering my stamina from my July stint in the hospital. I'm still not recovered it all yet. I may never will, but that remains to be seen. Such is life in an older body. Everyday, I push my boundaries. Some days I bounce back, and others I need a couple of days to bounce back. I've got until spring planting season to get it back. So I'll keep working at it.

Nothing is impossible.

Sunday Stroke Survival: An Incontence Nightmare

Today it's raining. That's not a bad thing normally. We needed the rain for our orchard and garden areas. But today it has been horrible!

My first stroke deadened the sensory nerves to my peritoneal area. It some of the only sensory nerves that were damaged. Other than the right side of my face and a spot on my outer thigh, all of my other sensory nerves are in tact. Thus, the normal sensation of having to go to the bathroom is dulled. I actually rely on a tug around my belly button area to tell me I have to go if I'm not going by the clock. This creates a gotta go, gotta go, gotta go right now situation. I'll start dribbling within a couple of minutes.

Going by the clock isn't always convenient. I could be anywhere on our cleared half acre property when this occurs. If I'm down on the lower tier of the orchard, it means getting on the yard tractor, riding up the terraces, getting off the tractor, climbing four steps, making my way through the house, and then getting my pants/shorts and underwear down before I can sit on the commode. I often don't make it before soaking my underwear and bottoms. This is even with wearing  a pad. You can't do a lot of these actions with your legs crossed to help contain the flow.

Oh no! Not math!

Add Lasix, a powerful diuretic, to the mix and you've got compound interest added. I take this diuretic to keep fluid away from compressing my heart. Without it, my body will hold over 13 pounds of fluid. It will back up in my lungs and squeeze my heart in a very unloving embrace throwing me into congestive heart failure. My cardiologist recently increased my daily dose of this drug because it wasn't pulling enough fluids out of my body. To give you an idea of how much fluid extra fluid I was carrying around, I lost 26 lbs in the first 48 hours! A gallon of fluid weighs about 8.3 lbs or 3.7 kg for my non US readers. You do the calculations for 26 lbs to kg. Any way you look at it, it's a lot of fluid via peeing. I was rarely more than ten steps away from the bathroom for hours. Any distance over ten steps requires bathing and a lower wardrobe change.

The increased Lasix did such a good job of keeping me out of heart failure, my cardiologist decided to keep me on the higher dose. I should be thankful, I could have been hospitalized. But the increased dosage of Lasix also puts additional strain on my poorly functioning kidneys too.

Now everyone knows that the sound running water will make you have to urinate. I'm no exception. Half an hour after I take my morning meds, which includes my Lasix, I'm sitting here around the corner from a bathroom awaiting my day at the races. It's raining outside and I'm making a hobbling sprints to the bathroom. Two hours later, after my fifth trip and one lower wardrobe change, it's still raining and my roommate decides to do a load of laundry. Now, I'm off again. I am sure to empty my bladder each time I go.

Everything gets put on hold. On today's chore list is making and canning tomato sauce. Just what I need...more running water. This time from the kitchen sink. I feel that familiar tug near my belly button. Dropping the two-gallon bag of frozen tomatoes on the counter and I'm off. I've got a choice of  because I'm between two bathrooms. I just make into Mel's master bathroom. Because of a Pavlov's dog type of conditioning, now just seeing the toilet starts a slow release of urine. I have to time the removal of my panties and be seated on the toilet, or be cleaning up the dribbled mess afterwards.

Drat, my poor damaged brain!

I wash my hand and reach for the hand towel. It wasn't hanging on the rack. Doh! Mel was doing her laundry. The idea of sticking my wet hand in the towel closet to retrieve a new one just didn't seem right. Besides, I would disturb her "pet" spider that lived there. He  is only four inches across. I have this relationship with nonpoisonous spiders, I don't bother

them unless they bother me. If Mel wanted to keep a spider in her bathroom linen closet, then she'd have to deal with the cobwebs. Then, I remembered I was going to stick my hand in water any way. I just shook the excess water from my hand and returned to the kitchen.

I grabbed the bag of frozen tomatoes and dumped them in the sink half full of water and grabbed another bag from the freezer. After dumping them into the basin, I swished them around with my hand. Mistake, a tug at my navel again. It had been less than twenty minutes since my last sojourn to the porcelain throne. This time I went to my bathroom. It was only a few steps more. My bladder couldn't be full again.

Once again, I'm hit with the dribbling stream at the sight of the toilet. I'd definitely have to change pads. My bladder was full. I returned to the kitchen. The tomatoes were slipping their skins and I placed them in a colander and refilled the sink with two more  two-gallon bags of tomatoes. I had twelve bags to do in total. I was then squeezing the tomatoes out of their skins and into my 16-qt stock pot to cook down.

My garden has been very productive this year. All of them had to be sauced today because of a half split of lamb was going into the freezer in two days. I didn't want to wait until the last minute to do the tomatoes because sauce takes time to make it good. I usually do this during winter when the heat and humidity are appreciated more. Better to do them before something else came up besides running to the bathroom.

Prime cuts of lamb

About the lamb,  a local, no chemical, pastured raised sheep operation cut me a deal on a split for less than $4 a lb. I may look crazy, but I ain't totally bonkers. I jumped at it.  With the lamb, I had no choice about doing the tomatoes. Plus, I'll get all the off cut like the pancreas, brains, kidneys, tongue, and intestines. When cooked right, these off cuts are a high dollar food in restaurants and I know how. The intestines will be washed, cleaned, and frozen in brine for breakfast sausage casings. The long bones will make excellent bone broth and dog bones later. I'll get them for almost free considering he discounted the lamb by $2 a pound for me. It sure beats the $6 or more a lb store prices. Fall lambs are not as tender as spring lambs, but to me there's little difference.

So for now, I'm weathering the storm literally and figuratively.

Nothing is impossible.

Sunday Stroke Survival: Incontinence Woes

Now I know I'm not the only person living post stroke with incontinence issues. I've heard from a multitude of you. I've done pretty well getting out of diapers and just using a pad.

Being on Lasix, diuretic, for a bum heart just compounds the problem. I usually plan ahead. I'll take my Lasix two hours before I have to go anywhere. After two hours, the main effects of my Lasix wears down from a roar to a meow. But even still, I'll go before leaving home, go again upon entering a store/doctor's office, go again before heading home from shopping/ doctor's appointment, and run into the house to go again when I get home. It's somewhat routine now. Whatever I bought will have to wait until I take care of the issue. I'll leak in between and sometimes I just don't make it.

It's really embarrassing, as an adult, not to be able to control your bladder! When out in public, other people give you a wide berth especially after an accident. They look at you with that "what's wrong with you" look. Hello! does the cane, limpy walk, or one arm frozen in a 45 degree angle give you a clue? Of course, it was an accident. Who in their right mind would want to pee or worse themselves. Even at home and it's just me. I'm mortified. I dutifully clean myself up and put on fresh clothes waiting for the next accident.

No, I'm not on the self pity pot. I'm stating fact. Doesn't everyone love seeing an adult walking around in urine soaked britches? Do you look at them pitifully? Or do you go about your business? I think most of us would prefer you so the latter. You know the saying, "Sh*t happens" it's true with urine also.

Now in combination with my Dantrolene, Sh*t really happens. I was at the Farmer's Market a couple of weeks ago. I was speaking to the lady in charge of the market about setting up a stall next year. No cramps. No ominous rumble in my belly. The back door flood gates opened. There was no stopping it. It flooded my pad with poo. It ran down my legs and covered my socks and AFO. I halfway expected it to run off my shoes onto the concrete, but it didn't. I excused myself. Totally self conscious, and walked to my car. Every step was punctuating by a renewed onslaught.

I drove the fifteen minutes home wet with the goo being ground into my pores. It seemed like so much longer. At home we had the handyman and his assistant working on the plumbing. Oh great! The water is off! No shower. No flushing toilet. I'd have to use the spare gallon of water to clean off with.

I started feeling off earlier last week. I was more tired than usual. We were only preparing for a hurricane to hit us. You know the vague feeling that something is going wrong with your body but you don't quite know what's wrong. It started with a hot flush one moment and freezing the next. It was followed by that achy feeling. Not enough to stop you doing what you have to do, but just a general sort of thing. I chocked most of this up to missing my medicines one night and according to MedMD they were also side effects for the Dantrolene. I tried to ignore it. It wasn't until there was blood tinged toilet paper after wiping and the feeling like I'd been kicked by a mule in the side a few days later that I knew my problem. I didn't need a doctor or lab results to tell me I had a kidney infection.

Having to wear pads for my incontinence moments, provides a warm, moist environment for bacterial growth no matter how clean you keep yourself. The same with diapers. You have periodic diaper rashes and infections. It's so common place with me that my PCP writes a prescription with four refills every six months. I rarely notice a bladder infection because of my loss of sensation in my pubic area, but there's no ignoring a full blown kidney infection.  So this week I'm battling a kidney infection. I'm happy to report its on the mends. A few days of sulfur always stops it.. Thank God!

It's always the side stuff that goes with any diagnosed problem, like a stroke, that runs you ragged.

Nothing is impossible.

Thursday's Tumbles and Stumbles: Murphy's Law Strikes Again

You know the old sayings of, "The best laid plans of mice and men," and Murphy's Law's, "Whatever can go wrong will"? That's been my week. I've had one stumble after another in the what things should have gone on. This week is mostly about me.

I've been delaying my decision on whether or not to have my regularly scheduled Botox series. Mostly out of fear because of last time. I mean I've lost the little bladder continence I had and went full time in pull-ups due to the bladder and kidney stresses due to an infection. I was on the verge of kidney failure. The resulting infection also caused my bladder sling (implant) to fail. It actually ripped a piece of my hip muscle when it broke loose causing six weeks of pain and an unstable gait until it healed. Yeah, I was scared of it happening again.

Personally, I hate procrastinating because it always seems to come back and bite you in the rear. This time, as usual, it did. I knew my Botox injections were scheduled for the middle of March. It's always between the 5th and the 20th...except this time. It started with me not being able to find my appointment card. It's only been three months and it's not like I have an uneventful life. No problem, I thought. I could just call the office an get it. Well, I did. My appointment wasn't for next week, but for Wednesday! As in two days. I kept the appointment.

After the successful result with dry needling of my leg moving on Thursday of last week, the spasticity returned full force by Sunday. I wasn't disappointed. It was expected. I actually gained a day of freedom from the spasticity so I was rejoicing. Because of an office inservice, I didn't get a chance to make this week's appointments. Monday I called the rehab place to set them up, or so I thought.

My therapist had a family emergency and had to fly to Scotland. He won't be back until the 16th. At my query, nope, nobody else was certified to do the dry needling in this town. Or, even in a 100-mile radius.They asked if I wanted to see regular therapist for stretching. I'm technically a new patient, they don't understand that my arm and leg do not relax enough once the spasticity sets in full force like it is now. My spasticity post-stroke isn't a sometimes thing that causes pain and muscle tightness like it for some very fortunate survivors, it's almost constant without Botox or dry needling. Think Cerebral Palsy spasticity. I have brief moments during a day when my arm isn't drawn up to my chest in spasm. So at the present moment while I wait the one to two weeks for the Botox to take effect or dry needling I'm in pain constantly.

Not that I blame my therapist for abandoning me. If roles were reversed, I would have dropped everything if my mom gad needed me and was at death's door. What am I talking about. I did do it when it was my mother. So I totally understand.

On another front, my hubby decided he was no embarrassed by wearing pull-ups last weekend and decided he wanted to wear regular underwear again. I really can't blame him either. If I had my druthers, I wouldn't be wearing them either.

He had been doing well about using the urinal and bedside commode. No accidents or added work for me. [Dum, dum, dum] Murphy's law strikes again this weekend. He had a major blowout of the bladder and bowel type again. Made worse because all of the weight he's lost makes his briefs two sizes too big. So the briefs caught none but getting soaked through. Why does this always seem to  happen on the weekend when hospice was on short staff? As if, I'd really call them for this even though I could.

I got him cleaned up, in fresh clothes and bedding. Of course, all this commotion increased his pain and anxiety levels so it was more Ativan and morphine. Not to mention mine as well. My past demon of drug abuse raised its head but a quick prayer slayed it.  Even after thirty plus years of being dry, the demon still haunts me whispering in my ear the same old excuses, What could it hurt?...Just one time... It's available, why not?...You could use it...You deserve this break. I flicked that little demon off my shoulder once again. Yes! Victory! I took an hour nap as a reward instead. He took a two-hour nap. Needless to say, my hubby is in pull-ups again.

He also lost another pound this week. I had thought he was doing well by maintaining 92.5 lbs. While he's teetered around with a half pound for a month now (gain and loss), I didn't expect a full pound when I got him up on the scale.

Strawberries are in season now and the store has them on sale so I've been making him strawberry shortcakes as snacks. Think of a cake soupy with whip cream, strawberry sugar syrup and pureed strawberries.  Of course, he's got his three bags of chocolate a week too. I really stocked up after Valentine's Day and will again after Easter. There won't be another candy holiday until Halloween. I'm still making him eclair cakes in between. Yes, I do feed him regular food too. In fact he dined on home made Salisbury steak, mashed potatoes, and green beans yesterday. Today's menu is BBQ chicken, potato salad (made from leftover mashed potatoes), and my homemade corn relish. I still try to make meals tasty and interesting in spite of it being toddler food consistency for him.

So that's this week's doom and gloom report. How has your week been?

Taboos

Is nothing sacred? Yep a lot of things are like God and the Ten Commandments. But in blogging there are a lot of taboo subjects. I realize this and choose to shed light on certain subjects like incontinence.

I rarely talk about sex because I've been voluntarily celibate for the past eight years. I prefer to have sex with a partner. My husband has been too ill to participate. It's not that I don't have permission to stray. It's not like I haven't had the opportunity, I have. My husband gave me permission to seek other companionship in that area, but it is a choice to remain faithful to my beloved. Being a relative healthy female, I do miss it. Some say it's like riding a bike so I'm not worried.

The thing about taboos is that people do talk about the issues among themselves or suffer in silence. I tend to lay it all out on the table and speak my mind. Sure there is plenty of information from medical sources on the web about subjects that are taboo, but very little "my story" type reading. Let's face it, you can read all the medical context you want but there is nothing like reading a first hand account of something similar that you are going through. You can honestly say that I'm not alone. 840K speaks very loudly (most since I've had my stroke).

Recently I heard from a reader that has had urinary incontinence issues since she was six years old and numerous surgeries to correct the issues. It warms my heart that I touched someone going through what I am and can relate to what I am saying. The reasons behind it are different, but the problem is the same. It proves to me there is an audience for my taboo topics. So many people suffer from the " Oops I can't say that online" syndrome. I don't suffer from it at all. Nothing is taboo with me but I try to keep my blog PG-13.

I believe that if you are experiencing something- you should talk about it. Not just the bad stuff or good stuff. I admittedly try to keep the poor-pitiful-me to a minimum and tell it like it is. Sometimes I rant and rage about injustices, but I do try to keep it light hearted.  Nobody really wants to read complaint after complaint or whining. Although I do that too occasionally. 

I've been bashed because I view my stroke as a learning experience and MY view of things.  But I honestly do. Since my stroke, I've developed more cyber friends and viewers online than I ever did when this was just a blog for writers or an author's blog. Yes this blog is still for writers because that is what I'm attempting to get back to. But with my second stroke the cognitive deficit is more marked.

What I regained months after my initial stroke has put me at -25 now. So I'm struggling here just to blog. Even writing this blog is hard to come up with words. Obvious with my continued absence. It now takes me three days to put together one blog between the (xxx) where I can't find the word or correcting all the red squiggly lines. Talk about a major setback for an author! But at least I am trying.

I appreciate all comments and emails but if you feel so strongly against the subject matter... stop reading. I usually preface my blogs in the first couple sentences. Nobody is twisting your arm to keep reading. I lead by example and follow like minded people. Even if the following drops right off a cliff. Well maybe not to that extreme. I imagine you do the same. My goal is not to alienate people but to say, "Hey, you're not alone."

I may never get back to being the writer I once was, but it's a goal I'm striving for. Thanks for sticking with me for the journey.

Nothing is impossible with determination.

Sleepless Sleepiness and Other Irritants

Recently, I started waking with the "Gotta go. Gotta go. Gotta go right now!" It doesn't matter if I went before lying down. It doesn't matter if I've slept two hours or eight hours, the results are still the same. I barely or don't make it to the bathroom before warm liquid is running down my legs.

Now I do the fluid restriction before bed. I use the clock as I've mentioned in other posts, but to no avail.  At first I thought it might be a bladder infection, but the copious amount of fluids issuing from my body rejects that notion.

This morning was one of those times except I awoke at 1:30 in the morning after only four hours in bed. After putting on my AFO and shoes, rolling out of bed, and walking the twenty odd steps into the bathroom I found myself peeing into my brace and shoes. I didn't even get my panties down before catching the bulk of the flood into the toilet. This is down right irritating! No wonder I'm opting for full diapers again.

After I cleaned myself up and changed clothes I noticed the living room light on. My husband's hospital bed is in the living room. I went to investigate and found him on the floor in a heap, heaving trying to breathe without his oxygen on. As is my previous emergency training and my nature, I act first to remedy the situation and then panic afterwards. I got him to his feet. As he leaned doubled over the foot of the bed, I put his oxygen on. He kept shaking his head no. "No oxygen."

I thought he was saying that he didn't want it, but what he was trying to tell me was the
tube was kinked. I put the nasal cannula on him anyhow. Then we did the hand signal thing until I understood what the problem was.  Then I back tracked the line, found the kink and straightened it. I half carried him into bed. A miracle feat for a woman paralyzed or partially paralyzed on one side. I got him settled and he was still saying, "No oxygen."

I pulled the cannula away from his nose and I could feel it. I told him to look at my nose and focus on slowing down his breathing. "In and out" I started a cadence to slow down his gasping reflex. Then he realized, that he was getting oxygen. The panicked look left his eyes and  he drifted off to sleep again.

While I knew I should go back to sleep, I couldn't. The adrenaline let down effect had me by the throat and mind. It was like Friday when his oxygen machine alarm went off. I placed him on his rescue bottle of air and called the oxygen supply company. I don't know about other stroke survivors with aphasia issues but for me stress plays a major part in how bad I talk. When they answered the phone my voice was gone. Just trying to say my name was like pulling taffy. I had to take a couple of deep breaths just to do that. Luckily, the person who answered the phone knew about me and patiently waited for the words to come.

The what ifs that made me such a good storyteller played over and over in my mind. What if I didn't have this bladder problem and had slept all night. All of a sudden I was thankful for the mess. By the time I got settled down enough to sleep, there were other issues to be taken of...the rabbits, guinea pig, and chicken needed to be feed. The cats and dogs wanted to be fed, and let out and in. Medicines dosed out. For my hubby this means raising the head of the bed, handing him a water bottle and giving him one pill at a time (including finding the ones he drops in the folds of bed sheets), urinal or diaper change, and then lowering his head some, checking his legs for skin breaks, and making sure the humidifier on his oxygen condenser has enough water. By this time he's asleep again. The morphine does its job well.

Another hour monitoring his vital signs and I'm free for two hours. I guess I could do away with his vital checks, but old habits die hard. I toy with the idea of just drifting off to sleep but fear of not waking up in time for the next round of meds keeps me awake. I still head nod my way through the time praying he doesn't try to get up out of bed on his own again.

Don't tell me I should have had the rails up because I did. He scooted off the foot of the bed to try and get to his rescue oxygen and fix the problem with his line. The bad thing about being one handed is the bed rails. They are the type that have a knob that you have to pull out while you slide it down on both sides of the rails. One handed becomes a two part operation in increments to lower the rail to get him in his chair.

By 10AM I am able to once again lay my head on my pillow because my youngest daughter is here for a couple of hours before she has to go to work. Two hours of heavenly sleep for my sleepless sleepiness. Unconsciousness disturbed by the "Gotta go. Gotta go. Gotta go right now!" So it all begins again.

Nothing is impossible with determination.

Sunday Stroke Survival ~The Three Ps: Pee, Pads,and Pubic Hair

Being a lady, only lately, has incontinence been openly talked about. To me, nothing is totally sacred and taboo so I talk about it openly. Today there are a million commercials on television about urinary incontinence. Bladder control or uncontrolled is no longer a hush-hush subject. Although going out in public with urine soaked panties is still embarrassing. It's a dignity issue.

After a stroke, everyone sees the paralyzed limbs or hears the monotone or hesitant speech. But not many give thought to the unseen muscles that are paralyzed also within the body. The conscious effort a stroke survivor does to exercise these muscles to restore them or work around them like the throat, bowels, peritoneal, and the diaphragm. Those are are hidden inside. We strive for control and sometimes fail.

I make no secret about my urinary control issues over the past year and before. It's a natural process of the body and an integral functioning part. In computer lingo it's GIGO (garbage in garbage out). If you put food and liquids into the body it has to process the waste somehow.

I loss feeling or sensory deficits in very few places with my stroke and I am lucky. I didn't feel this way a year ago when I had my stroke, but now I'm grateful. Sure I walk around with the right side of my face full of Novocaine slightly wearing off. You know the sensation when it isn't the big lip but can't quite feel anything either. Yep that's the one. It make chewing an adventure. My coughing has changed. My husband who is 90% deaf can't hear me yell for help but comes running when I cough now from another room. I'll end up with bruises on my outer right leg and have no idea how I got them. But the most irritating loss is the sensation of having to pee without having to shift my body weight. Being unable to distinguish whether I have to urinate or defaecate is only a mild irritation since I'm on the commode already.

I transitioned from catheter to diapers to pads in a few short weeks. For this I'm forever thankful! Diane over at the Pink House blog still deals with these issues. While I may deal with these issues with my own DH (darling hubby), it's not a continuous issue like with her yet. She now blogs about clogged and catheter explosions.

I even save money buying menstrual pads now because of greater control. But have yet to transition to panties liners. Another huge step to work on. I still have the occasional accident but I am doing better. Now that I'm out and about more causes me to look where the bathrooms are anyplace I am to judge the distance, and the time needed to get there just in case.

With pads there are drawbacks because they really aren't meant to be worn day in and day out for a years. I've had diaper rashes because of the waterproof liners. While my children were in diapers they occasionally experienced this problem. I would coo and commiserate with their pain as I treated it. I was too young to remember my own bouts.

Until recently that is. Is anything more uncomfortable than a burning, itching, painful rash between the legs? Do you run to the doctor for it? Would you have someone else apply diaper rash medicine? It hurts to sit. It hurts to stand. It hurts when taking a step. It even hurts when you are lying down. Yeah some of you know what I'm talking about. The rest of you are just lucky. I recently saw a commercial for Balmex for adults. What a relief! It's not only me! If they are advertising it there must be millions.

The last thing in the title I wanted to address is pubic hair. (No, I wouldn't think about adding a picture) Yes, this is a risque subject sort of, but hey, I have very few taboos. Over at Amy Shissler's stroke blog earlier this month there was an interesting discussion on gray hair that took a turn to hilarious thanks to Barb Polan, Dean and I. The discussion turned from Amy finding her first gray hair, she's only 32, to balding, to finding your first gray pubic hair. I mentioned that the adhesive strips on my pads have made bald patches on my pubis. Why pay out huge amounts of money for bikini waxes...just get pads. The adhesive strips on those things will pull out hair follicles! So save money and use pads!

Yes, I'm starting a new trend... the polka dotted pub.

Nothing is impossible with determination