I am obsessed by my penis.
This soreness, this burning pain has gone on now pretty continuously for a week despite the antibiotics and while it’s happening I can’t move further away from the bathroom than about ten minutes and I often can’t wear anything below the waist other than loose fitting pyjama trousers. As a result I haven’t been out for a week.
The problem is made worse because of Ann’s limited mobility. While she has pressure dressings on her leg she can’t work her guide dog so getting supplies is going to be a problem unless my sore willy can be sorted out.
The antibiotics will run out on Monday and, as the NHS doesn’t operate over the weekend, today was the day for organising more of them if they were required so I rang the Christie to see if they felt I should stay on them which they did.
When I told them which antibiotic I had been prescribed they were concerned as they had suspicions that this very goood bug-killer may cause urinary problems for some patients and they wanted a urine sample tested before deciding which antiobiotic to keep me on. To this end I contacted my GP again and arranged their nurse to collect the sample. It will be Monday at the earliest before the results are available.
I had asked the nurse at the Christie to contact my GP directly but it appears they are not allowed to for some reason so there was I, a layman passing messages with clinical content between two professionals. Joined up thinking, folks? How much scop for mis-communication creeps in when this sort of thing happens.
The only amusing aspect to this ( & you always have to look for one) is that more women are taking an interest in my penis then ever before.
Oh, and I have found a tooth is coming loose. My cup overfloweth!
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