Today’s Cystoscopy

It knocked the sh*t out of me. Literally.

As you might remember, after taking the steroid dosepak, I was supposed to return to UCLA hospital for a follow-up cystoscopy three months later.

Today was the day.

I haven’t pissed blood since. So I was optimistic there would be no problem, but you never know. The body is made to deteriorate, no one here gets out alive, something’s gonna get you.

Now no matter how calm you feel, you never get a good night’s sleep before procedures like this. Actually, I had a wild dream where this waiter in Vail sold me a jacket. It was $495. Really pretty cool. I was supposed to be having dinner with friends and family downstairs at Russell’s, which doesn’t even have a downstairs, but after sitting at the table silently I excused myself to go to the bathroom and when I was done, I took a seat at a two-top and this waiter came along and after sizing me up he left and returned with this jacket. Kinda hard to describe, it was fabric, not leather, something you’d wear at night, it had a lining, which was removable and…thinking about it afterward it reminded me of this Guess jacket I had back in the eighties.

Anyway… I find it nearly impossible to shop for clothes. I question my taste and the ultimate fit but this guy sized me up perfectly! So I was excited when he said we should go downstairs for jeans, but they didn’t have my size, and this guy wasn’t going to sell me anything that wasn’t exactly right. Turns out his name is Fred and really he runs a bookstore and he’s not going to be back at the restaurant until Tuesday, when new threads are delivered, so I’m making a mental note to dream about him a week from now.

The dream was a good diversion, you never know where this stuff comes from, what it means, and it kept me distracted while I showered and ate and then… I had to skedaddle for the hospital.

I’ve learned to check the map app first, you never know where the traffic might be, and I was routed on Sepulveda instead of the 405, and it was crowded at first but I got there in time and after checking in, I had to provide a urine sample.

I wondered if I had enough in me. This had occurred to me just before I left the house, and I tried to imbibe, but I just wasn’t thirsty. Really, I was standing in the bathroom with the plastic cup and I felt that I would be unable to deliver, wondering if I eked out a few drops whether it would be enough, but eventually I got a flow going and returned to the waiting room.

Where I didn’t have to wait long until I was called inside by the football expert.

I guess I always feel obligated to service people. I’m trying to work on this with my shrink. But I was stunned that this woman didn’t remember our prior conversation, unlike the guy I ran into the hall after I peed, who had sent his Tudor watch in for repair, I wanted to ask him how it was doing.

And after taking off my clothes, donning the robe but leaving it open in the back, the NFL expert came back in with another woman, and she told me how great this replacement was, and I casually said that I guess we’d talk about football another time.

This stopped her in her tracks. She lamented handing me off. Rather than leaving, she wanted to get into it. Who was my team and..? I read enough news to fake it, but I was just trying to make her feel comfortable, so I let her go for her replacement who told me she had four jobs.

You see I asked her what she did when she didn’t work. She told me she loved to work! I asked if this was for the money, but no…it was the work itself. As for the four jobs… The two in the middle had to do with working at a charitable organization and the fourth was being a mother, she said she had four kids. I immediately wondered about supervision and behavior. But when I asked her about this she said there was no problem, you could tell she ran her household with an iron fist.

And then she raised my gown, scrubbed my dick, placed it in a hole of fabric so it was akin to SNLs Dick in a Box, and I’m thinking how this is de rigueur, an unknown woman manhandling my penis. Well, she was gentle, and it wasn’t sexy and it wasn’t weird emotionally, but intellectually… You’d think they’d have a guy do this, but no…

And then another woman came in! To inject me with the lidocaine!

Yup, they fill up this big syringe and shoot it right up your dick. And if you think that’s painful… Well, let’s just say it’s somewhere between uncomfortable and painful.

Meanwhile, we’re b.s.’ing…

And I’m thinking how this is my socialization. I don’t go to an office, I’m hearing from people all day long in e-mail and iMessage, but face to face?

That has fallen off since Covid, for everybody.

by Bob Lefsetsz, Lefsetz Letter |  Read more:

Image: uncredited

[ed. I had a cystoscopy back in my 30s to check for bladder cancer (negative). Uncomfortable to painful is a good description. That last little turn is a kicker.]