"How do they go in to the bladder? Through the wiener?"
"What? Did they put a camera up there?"
"They put a lot of stuff up in there. I think it was a contest. I suspect I looked like an umbrella stand towards the end".
"The worst part is the Foley catheter they insert in you post-surgery. I had that thing in me for a weekend, and it was the longest weekend I ever had. You have a constant urge to pee, but can't. It's impossible to ignore. And the removal? Oh, man!"
Wow, so huge amount of the wrong kind of fireworks for the Fourth of July coming up. What's wrong with me? My left ureter is blocked, by either a cyst or cysts plural or a tumor. Th emergency room doctor handed me a diagram, to which I remarked "Geez, could you have found a more alarming graphic?"
So, the kidney is all swolled up and shut down. I've had a few anxiety attacks, which I attribute to the adrenal glands, which set right on the kidney, reacting to the bad news about the downstairs neighbors. I'm sure the kidney is none too pleased either.
I'd be a fool to say I'm not worried about this. I have a huge amount of apprehension. So, here's the funny thing (among others) - my mother informed me that one of her friends set it up so that a whole convent of Scottish nuns will be praying for me on Tuesday.
Hey, the enemy of my enemy is not necessarilly my friend. But the friends of my friends are always friends. And, despite being a orthodox agnostic (because, despite their insistence they are under no burden of proof, being an atheist requires faith), I'll take any help from any quarter in any manner I can get it.
Oh, and another cast glass is out of the kiln: