Sweet Little Piss

Remember that scene in Young Doctors in Love when Harry Dean Stanton puts a finger into a jar of urine and sucks his finger to test it for the sugary taste of a diabetes, then encourages the gorgeous and gullible young intern to do the same. When she does, he goes "Gross!, I switched my finger! That's a trick we play on all the new doctors!" Joke is of course, that they DID used to taste urine as a quick test for diabetes.

But not any more!


The neurologist last week took a blood sample and had it tested for sugar levels without me realising (the type of test I mean, I certainly noticed the needle-stick), right after I'd had a Delifrance cappuccino and a sticky bun! Do'h, he maybe have mumbled something, but I don't remember him asking if I was fasted or not. So of course it's going to be high compared to a normal fasting level!

With that result he started thinking I MIGHT be diabetic after all. The nerve pain in the feet, hey, falls into place - Diabetic Neuropathy, there's even a Wikipaedia entry on that!

Meanwhile, two days later (before I got his test results) when I go to my GP for my quarterly top-up of BP and cholesterol drugs, she took a FASTING blood sample (I was expecting this one) and tested for both cholesterol and sugar as well. Her blood-sugar-sex-magic results came back normal! Funny that.

But just to be on the safe side, as I evince several of the main risk factors for diabetes, viz: obesity and family history (maternal Grandad and paternal Aunt), I went in this morning for a Glucose Tolerance Test.

I fasted from last night and only had a few sips of water to swallow my morning painkillers. Bad start, I nearly choked on the VitB complex Neurobions. Chaaark!

Later, after three blood tests, three urine samples and glass of red dextrose drink so charged that it makes Redbull seem like a sedative... Usual story ensues, pretty much... Well, E@L being E@L, it was not so typically usual...

Yep, not so easy there troopers. Now, I always have at my bedside a huge glass of orange juice mixed with water to moisten my parched lips when I wake in the night, under the evaporative pressure of the all-night air-con. I skipped this last night because... Well, I lie. I had forgotten about the fasting (no juice!) and had already made my watery OJ and placed it by my bed, but bugger, I had to leave it untouched all night. Result: I was quite dehydrated this morning. I had a meagre piss in the early shower (shit it's not even 8am!) before I took off for the clinic in Collyer Quay.

Immediately on arrival and registration, the receptionist handed me a specimen jar with my name on a sticky label. Damn. I don't need to go.

Anticipating trouble, I went into a large toilet cubicle to do the specimizing. First of all I had to drop my daks right down completely so that I was free to try and hold my schlong and the specimen jar in apposition without my trouser fly flap creeping in between... While waiting with my trousers around my ankles for things to start, I found that the now untucked front halves of my shirt kept falling into the potential pathways of any piss too, should it ever decide to come, and I had no free hand to hold them back. Shit.

I put the specimen jar on the conveniently located bench in the cubicle and thinking, what the heck, took off my shirt. I went to hang it behind the door, but nearly tripped because - my trousers were around my ankles. Imagine if I'd fallen and knocked myself out. Imagine the police report... An unconscious naked man with a small jar in a strange toilet. Weird.

I sighed. I waited and waited. I was empty. My bladder was asleep. I've already told you I'm not a great one for strong piss-streams at the best of times, and the memory of those prostatic dribbles from last week was still strong...

Eventually a few short spurts shot out laterally, going all over my fingers and OF COURSE the name label on the specimen jar. A few more spurts made it into the jar, sort of mid-stream, if you call twenty or thirty droppity-drops a minute a STREAM. You'd probably call a normal piss fucking Niagra in that case.

OK that's gonna have to be enough, because there's no more coming... Then, it's dressing time, it's washing the piss off the hand, it's trying to dry the piss stains from the name label... Damn. I tried to sneak it on to the specimen tray so she wouldn't see me, but bad luck, I was dragged in for the first on the blood samples.

The nurse or lab-technican stabbed away into my chubby elbow fossa where I have a big juicy vein that is incredibly well insulated by a thick, homegenous layer of vein-masking (but not pain-receptor-free) adipose tissue... jab, jab, sting, jab, until eventually she found a reliable source of blood,. It was one of those seperate needle and vacuum syringe thingies that they plug in and the first bit of blood really spurts in hard, which is quite cool to watch...

Then she gave me the dextrose hyperactivity drink, and it's a woozy E@L, with all that sugar on an empty stomach, I was giddy for a quite while...

Over the next coupla hours I had to go through the piss-in-the-jar saga two more times... Similar stories of stupidity and a protesting prostate. I never gave the lab-technician a virgin name label, they all were mightily piss-dribbled on. Oh, and don't forget two more diffiult-to-find-the-vein blood samples of course.

I reckon it would have been easier (for me) if the Doctor just did the good old fashioned YDIL taste test.

Results back by Thursday or Friday. I really don't expect to have positive result, my GP and I are convinced that there is no diabetes, so don't panic everybody...

AND I have a small glass ready if anyone wants to do the taste test themselves...



Posted by: expat@large on Sep 02, 08 | 11:21 pm | Profile


Shit buddy...talk about the cure being worse than the disease?

Maybe you should spend some time in a church, after all, it would probably do as much good as all these "experts" :-)

Posted by: Indiana on Sep 03, 08 | 8:51 am

I'll still trade my pissing exploits for yours right now!!!! Hurst to start, hurts worse to stop and hurts in between. Than again, I have found my new best friend, Oxycodone. The added bonus being that any leftover tablets sell for $50 each down just off Fitzroy St!!

Two days to go before another "Southern Aurora" shoots up my willie and drags out the stents and stones. Do you reckon I'm counting the hours!!

Surely, popping a Jelco in the first time to allow on-going venous access may have been more humane (nothing could have helped the urinary difficulties).

As for soiling the name on the jar, you're supposed to put the end IN the jar. Or are you saying that your new SNRI enhanced knob doesn't fit!!!



Posted by: Pete3859 on Sep 03, 08 | 8:50 pm

Pete: I'm still for the prophylactic nephrectomy in your situation...

And re: pissing in the jar - it's supposed to be MID-stream. You're supposed to flush out the gonnorrhea and syphilis bugs in the first flow. Hence the requirement not ot squeeze my knob into the jar - as a curious teenager I found out it doesn't fit into a milk bottle. Nuff said.

Posted by: expat@large on Sep 03, 08 | 8:55 pm

Indy: go to church, have acupuncture, do the German water treatment... has the world suddenly gone insane?

Blog to come from E@L on pseudo-science and the anti-knowledge of religion, on the ephemerality of fads (especially German ones) and the mundane vapidity of received 'popular' wisdom.

Posted by: expat@large on Sep 04, 08 | 2:32 am

go to church, have acupuncture, do the German water treatment... has the world suddenly gone insane? Blog to come...

yay for expat

Posted by: knobby on Sep 30, 08 | 12:37 pm


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