Note to self:

If I ever get my uterus out again, take cranberry after. I feel like an idiot, I have a UTI. After the evol catheter from hell during my epidural I totally took cranberry and despite being totally incontinent for a week (wasn’t that fun… not) I had no long term bladder issues. This time, catheter from hell again (how is it that people cannot feel those things in place? Seriously, if I write out a living will at some point it is going to have instructions that catheters never be left in place ever ever ever ever I do not consent ever again) and I did not do cranberry and lo, for I am inflamed.

So after a pee test yesterday they were all “La di da we found the problem you have a UTI no need to be seen.”

I was all, “LIKE FUCKING HELL YOU WILL SEE ME NOW BECAUSE I HURT DAMMIT LIKE SOMETHING IS WRONG AND I AM NOT GOING ANOTHER WEEK WITHOUT BEING SEEN.” Only nicer. And spacier.

At which point I had the single most immediately successful doctor visit ever.

All doctor visits should go like this. “Let me see. Oh! Is this what hurts? Let me fix that. There. Done.”

I had a stitch that was pulling, literally tearing the skin a little. She took the stitch out and my life is so much better instantly. I had no idea how much of my attention for the past 10 days has been focused on not moving wrong, on not wiping wrong, on coping with the niggling ow that was this one, tiny, poky focal point of ouch. Nothing else was more than an ache, not even the heavy burn of the UTI came close in sheer nuisance factor to that one stitch. I had been worried that I had an infection not just in the bladder but in the incision. No. Everything looks “great”.

And she fixed it, right then and there, done. Now I feel like I could actually sit through a movie, if I didn’t, you know, have to get up and pee every hour or two.

So by dint of locking the barn door after the horse has escaped, I am drinking cranberry thises and thatses (and jesus christ straight cranberry juice is sour) and taking macrodantin and that pyrowhatsis that turns pee a brilliant sunset orange and hopefully I will be feeling better and less spacey soon. I can go completely without pain meds for hours on end. If I couldn’t  take them at all, I would still be okay. But I have been instructed to stay on top of things, and so I do.  It is remotely possible I will, for once, actually finish a prescription of oxycodone. Except that I keep playing Zeno’s paradox with the tablets and at some point will go down to a half, then a quarter, then a crumb and done, and will never actually finish the last crumb. Or so is my experience with other bottles of oxycodone. I still have 90% of my last prescription, from a year ago, and won’t likely touch that.

Spellcheck wants to replace oxycodone with oxycontin. Which would be a bad idea, really, because I’m told one should never cut those in half. Zeno would end up stoned off his ass, and really never would get there.