Blood In The Urinal (Repost)
Bughunter
From: bugh...@earthlink.nosolicitards.net (bughunter)
Newsgroups: alt.tasteless
Subject: Blood in the Urinal
Date: Tue, 22 Sep 1998 01:24:49 -0700
Organization: iconoclastic misanthropes
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In retrospect, it was bound to happen one day.
You see, my choad has the habit of pissing sideways at low flow rates.
Something about the shape of the piss slit makes it do that... ask a
hydrodynamic analyst. All I know is that it's inconvenient.
So, to minimize collateral soakage, I have acquired the habit of pinching
my radish to restrain the flow until sufficient pressure is achieved,
allowing me to immediately direct a forward stream when released.
But on last night's flight from Portland to Burbank, this tactic backfired.
Literally.
Visiting the head, I was pinching "Little Ricky's" helmet, hard, keeping
his eye shut, preparing to let fly, when the aircraft hit a turbulent
patch of sky. Just as I relaxed the sphincter of my bladder, the toilet
seat fell shut. Maintaining this pinch and a relaxed bladder, I quickly
bent over at the waist to lift the lid again... Wrong move.
You see, the bending action caused a sudden and drastic increase in the
pressure behind my bladder. With the sphincter relaxed, the only
restriction was at my pinched radish.
Rip.
Something tore. It hurt. I yelped. And all I could do at that point was
unpinch, and spray the entire toilet with piss. As my bladder drained
empty, my choad continued to dribble. Red. The bright red of arterial
blood. A lingering sting reminiscent of the clap confirmed for me what
had just happened.
I didn't panic. I grabbed a wad of kleenex and dabbed. "Blood from my
pisshole," I thought. "This is a.t material." Shortly the flow of blood
eased off, and I could only produce blood by milking my choad.
So I wrapped up my injured warrior in a wad of kleenex and returned to my
seat. That's when I freaked. The remaining hour of the flight I was
unable to concentrate on anything except the thought of me bleeding to
death thru my urethra, or dying of a burst bladder because a bloodclot
would block my pissflow, and how the flight crew would explain a dead
passenger with a bloody crotch.
Check crotch? No bloodstain on the denim. Good. Nailbeds still pink?
Good. Repeat every 3 minutes.
I told myself that if I was still bleeding after the plane landed I would
seek medical help. Great. Now I begin imagining the inevitable endoscope
procedure, a prescription for lots of cranberry juice, tea, and coffee to
keep the tubes clear, and of course the fact that my wank plans for the
evening were shot to hell.
So I got off the plane and headed straight for the head where I sat down
and inspected Little Ricky. Bloodflow had stopped. Good. Couldn't milk
out any blood. Better. Pain had mostly subsided, no discoloration.
Things were looking up. I could go straight home.
I stopped at the grocery store for a liter of vodka and a half-gallon of
cranberry juice. I drank it all, supplemented with 500mg vicodin and 1000
mg of naproxin sodium (with food) to minimize any inflammation.
Today I noticed very few symptoms, except for a slight increase in
backpressure during the final drizzles, a bizzare spray pattern, and some
very slight stinging. Damn, it's hard to break the habit of pinching the
flow off before starting. An experimental wank resulted in no pain, but a
bizzare sensation of spooge backpressure. No blood. I think I'll
survive.
I count myself lucky. I expect I have a small bloodclot that will
eventually get spit out. (I'll keep you posted.)
I still think I'm lucky I didn't blow my head off with that maneuver.
[end repost]
Followup - I went to the doctor two weeks later, having assumed the habit
of drinking a liter of cranberry juice every morning. Standard procedure
initiated: piss in bottle. Waiting for the judgement I can hear the nurse
say "it's over 4, doctor," through the door. Doctor: "Are you sure? Do it
again." Five minutes later, the doctor has forgotten about my pisser, and
is asking me how frequently I urinate, how many times I get up at night to
piss, and if I'm constantly thirsty. Answers: gee, quite frequently this
week; zero or one; yes, quite so the past two days. Diagnosis: Diabetes.
Blood sugar: over 400 mg/dl.
Oh, and the choad has recovered nicely. But just to be safe, I now pinch
an inch further upstream. And I don't pinch when pissing from moving
vehicles.
ObT: The man who named it Diabetes Mellitus - latin for "sweet flow," as
in "lover, your piss tastes sweet!" You *know* it was a man...
--
"It has been my experience that those with no vices have very few
virtues." -- Abraham Lincoln
Rick Cross ---><--- Pasadena, CA
bugh...@earthlink.snipme.net