JOURNEY INTO THE BOWELS OF THE UNIVERSE..... THE URETOSCOPY. I was really quite glum about it.

It started December last. I was forever piddling, up-down-up-down endlessly. It got to the point where I had asked for a catheter for Christmas, I was contemplating moving my bed into the bathroom to be nearer the toilet. Off I went to the Doctors, “ Get on the bed, “ said he, donning his rubber gloves. Oh no, not the digital examination of the rectum again, thought I. In my naiveté, I had read this phrase previously, thinking digital had something to do with computers. Did it bugger, up went his finger, down went my morale. “ Hospital “, came the command.

  So when the appointment came, off I went (again, I had done all this 3 years previously) Same routine, scans, blood tests, urine tests, piddle in the machine tests etc. By now, the first thing I looked at when I went to see a doctor was the size of his hands. The last Doctor must have been the Ugandan goalkeeper. He didn’t have fingers; he had five bananas on each hand.

He also had a girl student in with him who looked acutely disillusioned with her lot in life as I walked in “ Get on the bed Mr. Thacker “ said this dark Gordon Banks. I could have died. While I was lying there on my side with yet another phalange up my rear I tried to engage this highly intelligent girl in conversation I was so embarrassed. “ Nice weather today “ I said to her wittily. He withdrew the banana.” Everything looks OK”, he concluded, “ But we’ll perform an ureteroscopy upon you just to be on the safe side.” “ Oh right” I replied, “ What’s that? “.

“It’s a camera inserted down your…. er…. sausage”. “A CAMERA! ” I spluttered hysterically, instantly a gibbering wreck. “ Will you knock me out for it?, teeth all of a chatter “Oh no,” said he airily, “ it’ll be done under a local anaesthetic”.

 I was mortified.

I awaited the appointment with great trepidation…………

So anyway…….

I went to the hospital Monday 23rd April to have the deed done.

” Take everything off, Mr. Thacker and put the gown on with the opening to the back. “

 I was really quite glum about it.

The nurse in the ward was a nice homely sort of girl and her colleague; the only other ward nurse was a little fat woman. I didn’t really mind either of them seeing my willy if any female had to.

We get to the theatre of course and the two nurses there were lovely, nubile young sex goddesses.

” Relax Mr. Thacker”, they grinned wickedly, picking up my gown revealing my little chappie in all his puny glory.

I had been apprehensive about this business of a local anaesthetic, picturing an injection in the member, not very nice. However…… when it came to it, the surgeon used an analgesic cream rubbed in the end of said member. I think that the cream was a mixture of Fiery Jack and valve grinding paste. Rather sore.

Next thing, I was on the ceiling.

The urologist (who wore white wellingtons!) had obviously done the dirty deed. OUCH MY GOD WHO'S PUT THAT TRAFFIC CONE DOWN MY DICK AND WAS IT NECESSARY TO SET IT ON FIRE ? There I remained for about ten minutes in cross-eyed distress while some intruding implement or other manoeuvred about around my innards. I could feel it moving but it wasn’t painful, it was… odd. I think that at one point it popped out my bum for a bit of fresh air and a look around and then wiggled back inside.

“ OK Mr. Thacker. All over “ I got off the bed and immediately thought that I must have piddled myself. “ No”, offered the ward orderly helpfully, “ He’s filled your bladder full of water “.

 Off I went to the toilet, 2-gallon piddle, no problem. The outflow was such that my cheeks were sucked in and the suffering appendage was super-cooled. I got dressed, had my cup of tea and biscuits and then realised that another wee-wee was called for. Stood there, started to do it, went as white as a ghost, silently screaming, eyes bulging, mouth open as an agony slowly but relentlessly engulfed me. I was piddling broken glass and it was impossible to stop. This remained a quite painful process all day.

Men; You know how sometimes the piddle stream will sometimes split into two and embarrass you as you piddle on the floor? No? Liars. Well, since this procedure I can do all manner of tricks; the dancing waters, Bellagio fountains, spiralling streams, 2 wet shoes at the same time etc, very entertaining. The best one of all, which remains to this day is the self-reversing Archimedes screw, best performed in an ultra-violet lit toilet following six pints of Banks bitter.

I feel as though I’ve let my little chap down, he’s been violated. We’ve always worked hand in hand, through thick and thin, sometimes it’s been hard but we’ve always pulled through. etc.