I stood at the kitchen counter this morning wondering what I could eat. How about a slab of butter and some pear juice? Or a sip of milk and some buckwheat?
I'm just not ready to embrace this yet. Like everyone else who is handed this diagnosis, I feel a bit lost and pretty angry.
I've been nice to my bladder through the years. I eat well---with a focus on health. And suddenly, my bladder is acting like a two-year-old who is disgruntled with the choices put on his plate. "I told you I don't like tomatoes," he screams, "and get rid of this fruit." I decide my bladder is a brat, unable to be grateful for the fine sustenence put before him. Instead he has a tantrum and goes on with his picky ways.
Or perhaps my bladder has joined a new church that doesn't tolerate wine or chocolate in its religion. I feel like dressing him up this Sunday and taking him to a new church. Perhpas one in New Orleans where the shrimp is tossed with cayenne pepper. See how he likes that.
Food is a big part of my life---not the eating really, but the preparation. I grow my own herbs and tomatoes. Every night I orchestrate a play in my kitchen, with the standing ovation at dessert. I comb through recipes. I throw little parties and try new things. I'm not ready to throw in the towel and eat buckwheat for the rest of my life.
I grew up having bladder infections. I'd cry in a very hot tub until we could get to the doctor's office. I had testing done and my urethra was widened.
I became familiar with the hot, burning feeling in my groin but it always went away.
This last year I've had a prevelance of infections, or so I thought. Funny thing was that my cultures started coming out clean. My bladder had become fond of the feeling, I suppose, and decided to make it permanent.
I went to the urologist on Monday. He mentioned IC and then gave me some new drugs--a new antibiotic and then Prosed. What followed was three days of agonizing pain, the worst I had ever felt. Bladder spasms and burning and shooting pain. It was the medication, I think. It was supposed to make me feel better, but for some reason, my bladder struck back. This confuses me.
So, now I'm popping pyridium and trying to sleep through a full night. I feel like my life has changed on a dime. I'm confused and await the testing....
In the meantime, I have to forgive my bladder. It's not an easy thing to do.
I'm just not ready to embrace this yet. Like everyone else who is handed this diagnosis, I feel a bit lost and pretty angry.
I've been nice to my bladder through the years. I eat well---with a focus on health. And suddenly, my bladder is acting like a two-year-old who is disgruntled with the choices put on his plate. "I told you I don't like tomatoes," he screams, "and get rid of this fruit." I decide my bladder is a brat, unable to be grateful for the fine sustenence put before him. Instead he has a tantrum and goes on with his picky ways.
Or perhaps my bladder has joined a new church that doesn't tolerate wine or chocolate in its religion. I feel like dressing him up this Sunday and taking him to a new church. Perhpas one in New Orleans where the shrimp is tossed with cayenne pepper. See how he likes that.
Food is a big part of my life---not the eating really, but the preparation. I grow my own herbs and tomatoes. Every night I orchestrate a play in my kitchen, with the standing ovation at dessert. I comb through recipes. I throw little parties and try new things. I'm not ready to throw in the towel and eat buckwheat for the rest of my life.
I grew up having bladder infections. I'd cry in a very hot tub until we could get to the doctor's office. I had testing done and my urethra was widened.
I became familiar with the hot, burning feeling in my groin but it always went away.
This last year I've had a prevelance of infections, or so I thought. Funny thing was that my cultures started coming out clean. My bladder had become fond of the feeling, I suppose, and decided to make it permanent.
I went to the urologist on Monday. He mentioned IC and then gave me some new drugs--a new antibiotic and then Prosed. What followed was three days of agonizing pain, the worst I had ever felt. Bladder spasms and burning and shooting pain. It was the medication, I think. It was supposed to make me feel better, but for some reason, my bladder struck back. This confuses me.
So, now I'm popping pyridium and trying to sleep through a full night. I feel like my life has changed on a dime. I'm confused and await the testing....
In the meantime, I have to forgive my bladder. It's not an easy thing to do.
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