January 12, 1981

At the end of each post I will include what my mom entered in her journal that day in blue.  If it's a day I don't remember, it will just be her journal entry.  Remember, my mom just kept a medical journal and not an emotional one, so almost every entry is just medical information.  By the time she completed her journal entry, She had usually used up all the emotion she had for one day.  Some of the days stick out in my mind more than others and will have a longer post....this was one of those days...................

There are certain parts of my time being sick that I will never forget and are a vivid memory.  The day I knew something was wrong, is one of the most memorable.  We had just returned to school after Christmas break.  On Monday, January 12, 1981 I woke up to get ready for school feeling completely fine.  There was never anything I felt prior to this day that would have given me any concern (or so I thought, but I will touch on that in another post).  I didn't experience any pain or have some giant bump, I just felt fine.  I walked into the bathroom to pee, but nothing happened.  I couldn't go. The urge was there but it wasn't that great so I tried for a bit and having no success moved on with getting ready for school.  I continued my morning as normal getting dressed and heading to the breakfast table.  At this point I didn’t inform my mom and figured it would not be a problem.  I would just go after breakfast.  I ate a normal breakfast and drank my orange juice.  I tried again before leaving for school and still nothing.

At the time, my mom was an ICU RN at Deaconess Medical Center in Billings and my dad had his own business as a dental technician.  He had turned half of our garage into his dental lab and worked from home.  My mom would get my brother Tim and me ready and take us to school.  I was five months away from turning eight and my younger brother had turned four in October.  My sister Rebecca was still about two years away from joining the family.   

We arrived at school and I became more and more confused and concerned.  I can remember riding in the car that morning and thinking the entire time, "how did I forget how to go pee?"  The "how did I forget to go pee" phrase would run through my head all day long.  At school the situation just began to worsen by the hour.  There was a definite urge now, but nothing would come out with each attempt.  It sure wasn't from a lack of trying.  I started to believe I had forgotten how to go and was so confused and embarrassed that I didn't say anything.  As the oldest, I didn’t want my younger brother or fellow classmates think I didn't know how to do something so simple anymore and laugh at my blunder. 

I tried and tried, going to the bathroom about every fifteen minutes.  I even went into the stall and sat down, which you never do in second grade out of embarrassment.  I strained and strained as hard as possible.  As the pressure mounted and the realization that I just couldn't go became reality, the emotions started flood and I had to calm myself down before going back to class.  I would start to cry in frustration with each failed attempt.  With more and more failed attempts mounting, it was becoming a serious workout.  I would begin to sweat as I was trying to go so strenuously.  It looked like I had just returned from recess when I would get back to class.  I remember thinking over and over, why can’t I go, what is wrong?!  

During my bathroom treks, my teacher quickly begin to worry I was sick.  The problem was she asked very specific questions.  "Eddie, you sick with the flu?"  I didn't feel sick at all, so I always answered “no”.  "Eddie do you have diarrhea?"  Again my answer was "no".  There was no way I was going to say "I can't go pee."  I had forgotten how and would become the joke of the school if the kids knew.  Finally after about the sixth trip my teacher Mrs. Downey, met me outside the principal’s office near the bathroom.  "Eddie do you need me to call your mom so she can come get you and you can go home?"  "Yes!"  Perfect, I didn't have to say why.  Get my mom and get me home!  

As soon as I got in the car my mom asked, "honey, are you sick with the flu?"  I burst into the "I can't go pee problem" and explain some of my failed attempts.  My mom turns into the ICU nurse and knows I must have a bladder infection.  She knows it stings badly when I go, so I won't.  We go home and she puts me in a warm bath to help "relax" me and tells me to just go in the water.  From this point on the frustration just continues to increase.  The adults just don't listen well to the second grader.  I have started my mantra of "I can't, I'm trying, I can't, I'm trying," over and over. 

The next medical step is to force fluids and increase the urge until I just can't hold it back.  I drink a little soda pop, which we rarely were given, but stop.  I'm not drinking anymore because it just makes it more painful.  It's around 1:00 pm and I have not gone since 8pm the night before.  My mom is left with no choice but to take me to the doctor and we are off to the Billings Clinic.  

Arriving at the clinic, the bladder infection diagnosis continues.  The doctor confirms they need to force fluids and are convinved I will go. The new problem is now I'm no longer a compliant patient.  There is no chance I'm going to continue to drinking anything!  I’ve about given myself a stroke trying to go all day and have found no success.  I continue to try to go over and over, about another 20 failed attempts.  The clinic shifts their approach to fear tactics and tell me if I don’t go, then they will have to catheterize me.  It will hurt real bad, so I should just go no matter how much is stings.  I can’t. 

The fear tactics fail, so they turn to begging.  Please Eddie, please go. We don't want to catheterize you.  I have told everyone I'm trying, believe me I’m trying, but nothing will come out!  I’m in pain from not going for about 19 hours and would really like it to start working again.  Time finally runs out on my attempts and out comes the catheter.  This is one of the worst experiences I have ever had.  It hurts terribly and the results are worse, as nothing happens.  The catheter will not reach my bladder to drain and relieve the mounting volcanic pressure.  Two attempts fail and then another 30 minute break while I try over and over to urinate on my own.  Again, two more catheter attempts fail and we are batting zero. 

So at this point what should be next?  Well, they sent me home.  Force fluids, he must have a severe bladder infection and he will go when it's bad enough. 

Back home I stare at all types of soda pop and drink nothing.  I know I can’t go and I'm hurting.  Drinking anything will only make it worse.  At this point I'm about as confused and scared as you can get.  The pain is starting to become very severe as we move toward 24-hours without relief.  I remember Pete's Dragon was on TV that night.  A good movie...I will never like.   

Midnight arrives (30 hrs.) and I am crying continually while my mom is frantic with why I won’t go and what could be wrong.  My dad finally asks the obvious, “how long can a seven year-old boy go before his bladder just explodes?"  With that, my mom jumped out of bed and started to pack a large suitcase.  As her mind changes from mom to ICU nurse, she realizes there is a more severe medical problem to deal with.  Her reply was, “we are going to the hospital and won’t be back.  Something is seriously wrong.” 

Jan. 12 - Symptom - unable to void.  Sent home from school.