I've been wearing a Foley catheter since Friday. This is the sixth time that I've had a Foley since my cancer diagnosis, and I've never gotten used to it. The worst part is securing the Foley tube so it doesn't suddenly shift and unexpectedly and painfully pulls the penis. That is especially common when the velcro thigh strap that is supposed to secure the Foley tube to the leg loosens or starts to slide down the leg. When a thigh drain bag gets full, it is just a matter of minutes before it starts pulling on the Foley tube.
I've had Foleys placed by four different doctors at three different hospitals - GW, Hopkins, and Chicago. Only Chicago used an adhesive patch that sticks to the skin and can lock the Foley tube into place. They use a Bard product called StatLock. It's a very useful device, and using it makes wearing a Foley much easier. After Friday's surgery, I emailed the Hopkins doctor and passed along my recommendation that he use it too. (His entire response: "ok").
I don't sleep well while wearing a Foley catheter. The convenience of having my neobladder automatically drained is not worth the tube and line snaking down to the night bag. I have to be very careful about how I change positions in bed, since there are only certain ways I can roll over, and limited positions I can hold. this is especially true without a StatLock. Wearing a Foley is neither relaxing nor comfortable.
Each night since I have come home from Friday's surgery, the Foley catheter has become blocked with mucus, so I need to flush it out using saline and a 60 cc syringe. It also happens on occasion during the day, although it seems to be less common probably because I am upright and moving around.
At times, urine leaks out around the Foley tube, especially when the Foley drain is blocked by mucus. This morning I found that I had wet underwear due to urine leakage, which means the bedding needs to be changed.
I can shower while wearing a Foley, but they advise not sitting in a tub (including a hot tub). This morning I was so cranky and stiff, I decided to sit int he hot tub anyway. I clamped the Foley shut and enjoyed a long soak, then used the jets to unkink my back.
So now I'm at work, wondering why I came into the office. I have a lot to do, but am not feeling at the top of my game. My third year med student daughter just emailed me and said that she got her hands on a StatLock at the hospital where she is doing her rotations, so I'm going to meet her and get that helpful device.
Ken: I was thinking that you looked rather uncomfortable when I saw you on Sunday; now I know why. Thanks for the blog. It helps your friends know what is going on without all the pestering to you personally (and having to repeat yourself to each one.)
ReplyDeleteWe care. You are in our thoughts and prayers.
Renee
Hurray, Chelsea! I sometimes think that healthcare providers should be limited to treating patients who have conditions that the provider has already experienced. I'm convinced the StatLock would be handed out like trick-or-treat candy if they did. It must be infuriating to feel the necessity of educating supposedly up-to-the-minute care providers on what actually works. Especially when it seems so basic a thing. "Research, advocacy, ... and more research!"
ReplyDeleteKen, our thoughts are with you every day and we send lots of love and light and, yes, laughter your way. I'm watching old Rocky and Bullwinkle episodes on Netflix as my latest non-Pharma self-medication and I can personally recommend them for helping to nudge low spirits back a teeny bit northward. Even if just for a while. And your matriculation from Whatsamatta U. certainly puts you in good stead. Maybe yes, maybe not right now. But Mr. Peabody awaits. Love you, my dearest friend. - Cyn