her name was jenny. i remember this only because she and my mother had some weird showdown about the similarity and the non-similarity of their names. they both seemed to be feeling a bit peckish about it.
she showed up after the baby went away late that first night and told me it was time to pee. she was very intense in doling out her detailed and lengthy instructions to me and brian regarding the procedures involved with getting up to pee. there were procedures because i still had a major dead leg on the right and might as well have had a cartoon leg of beef attached to my torso for all it was worth in regards to my mobility. she explained what was entailed when she asks if i feel okay. and she explained that she would freak out if she asked if i was okay and it took me more than three seconds to answer.
once the ordeal of getting me across the room, and my gown hiked over my shoulder, and me placed on the toilet was completed, a new set of hurdles opened up before me.
i had been lackadaisical about my water consumption as i was in no hurry to arrive at this phase of the game. usually, this does not dissuade my bladder from producing on command, but this time... it was having reservations about showing off. oh, or maybe it was performance anxiety from having Night Nurse standing over me waiting and then, when the show wasn't reaching its denouement quickly enough, squirting water from my new cooter-washing bottle on to my cooter in an attempt to trigger my bodily instinct for peeing. i mean really... who can pee under those conditions?
needless to say, nothing came out. she began threatening me with re-insertion of the catheter. i told her to give me 15 minutes with my giant plastic cup of water and me and my bladder would show her what we could do. she looked very intense and computed it had been 4 and a half hours since the removal of my catheter, but she would give me my fifteen minutes while she retrieved her catheter kit... because she was just that lacking in faith and knowledge of the powers of me and my bladder.
after re-situating my super ugly gown and having her step me into a pair of those fancy post partum fishnet panties (and oh my god they are fancy.. i stole them all and proceeded to never wear them at home), we reversed the intense process of getting me back into bed and then i attached myself to the straw. with my mouth. i sucked for all i was worth before she came back. then it was yet another round of dragging dead leg to the toilet.
this time, i leaned forward and concentrated for all i was worth and goddamn if i didn't pee into that damned cup attached to the toilet. and boy howdy was it red!
i silently mocked her statement that 95% of the time, a patient will produce when threatened with a catheter. oh, Night Nurse! how easily we change our arguments when confronted with a power we cannot understand!
basking in the glow of my accomplishment and the fiery defeat of Night Nurse, we dragged me back to bed where i proceeded to kick her in the leg becaue i was convinced control had come back to the dead leg. it hadn't. but my glory wasn't lessened because i thought it was super funny how i had kicked Night Nurse in the leg.
later in the night, i ignored what was a burgeoning desire to pee again... against my better judgement. it was just so much work to get into the bathroom. then i really needed to pee so i rang for Night Nurse to adminster some more of her trademark intensity and sat on the edge of my bed in utter pee terror waiting for her to show. after several minutes of agony, i decided to fuck the crazy assed going-to-the-bathroom multi-person-parade and i hauled my own dead leg across the floor to the toilet and the impending sweet release.
then something so incredibly fancy happened i could hardly believe it.
as i leaned forward to start the trickle, i felt pressure in what i thought was my urethra. i was a wee bit alarmed, but before i had time to fully process it, there was a big whoosh in my cooter and then i loaded up that little bowl and sent urinary love streaming over into the toilet bowl proper. then i panicked. holy shit! my urethra was bleeding out! then i came to my senses and realized it had come out of my cooter. i looked in the bowl and it was like i'd birthed another baby. true... it was much smaller than an actual baby, but compared to blood clots... this was the mother load! it was a delectably solid mass of dark red jelly not so much smaller than my fist. which is good because Night Nurse said they only freak out when they're bigger than a fist (whose fist she did not say). i called brian in and we marveled at the jelly before going back to bed.