Senescence sucks: The urologist (part 2)

(If you are young, you should stock up on these now while they are cheap.)

Today I had my annual visit to my urologist.  I get my blood drawn and they run a PSA (you know, a "prostate-specific antigen"), to help determine whether you have prostate cancer.  If that number is low and stays low from year to year, you are generally ok.  Mine was.  Of course, this test is followed up by a urine sample and a physical exam, with the urologist doing what urologists do best---by flying into DrTom's "no-fly" zone.  My "no-fly" zone is suspended only once a year so that this important medical exam can be done.



But the questions I must answer each year are somewhat depressing, because I assume they must herald what I have to look forward to:  How often do you get up during the night to urinate? Does it burn or sting when you urinate?  Do you urinate more than four times during the day?  Does it feel like your bladder is empty when you finish urinating? Do you have any "accidents" because you could not get to the bathroom quickly enough upon having the urge to urinate?  Get the picture?  Just put me on an iceberg now and let's save a whole lot of people a whole lot of aggravation later on.  (On a positive note, I am looking into buying stock in the company that makes Depend adult diapers, so at least I got a stock tip out of the ordeal.  On the other hand, I just checked their website and found this: "Depend® incontinence forums and discussion boards; discussion board is a place to connect with others and share incontinence stories and experiences."  There are people who actually sit around and discuss this?!!  Geez, I'll take the frickin iceberg.)

So my day was a little less than pleasurable.  To cheer myself up after the exam, I went to Staples and bought a new Logitech wireless mouse for my computer.  I followed this with a trip to Rogans to pick up some body-fattening, artery-clogging, heart-stopping comfort food---a meatball parmesan sub and chicken wings dipped in blue cheese dressing.  What the hell.  I don't see the cardiologist for another three months.