Things I Shouldn't Know at My Age

I've been reminded of a couple of other physical elements I didn't mention previously.
One is that I have a urinary catheter as well as the spinal one, and have had that for a couple of months now too, due to the size of the tumour on the prostate preventing my natural flow. At first I thought this would require me to have a bag strapped to my leg, slowly filling up each hour and ruining my usually high standards of sartorial elegance as I would need a pair of baggy trousers to accomodate my production of natural by-product. Fortunately, I had a knowledgeable doctor who gave me the choice of having a little tap fitted at the end, so I could control the flow and not have to have the bag (although have the option of fitting a bag at night - never having to get out of bed to visit the loo being a blokey idea of heaven). What I didn't know is that it would be replaced every twelve weeks, as the balloon holding it in at the bladder end can deteriorate. This involved a visit to the hospital and a blonde nurse spending far too much time over my nether regions trying to stick a rubber hose in the business end of what used to be a highly effective piece of equipment. I certainly didn't think that, at the youthful age of 47, the attentions of a gorgeous blonde in a nurse's uniform would result in absolutely no response from the small chap (honestly, very these days) and gasps of a definitely non - ecstatic nature from yours truly!
Still, it does have its advantages: once recently when I was off the antibiotics for a while and able to drink alcohol, I had cause to visit the gents in a pub where me and the girls were enjoying lunch. Normally I'd use the cubicle rather than the urinal, but it was occupied, and as the pub wasn't busy I figured I'd be safe letting my plastic hose out into the fresh air. Half way through, a small lad (about 8 or 9 I'd guess) came in and unzipped. He looked steadfastly ahead at first, but when he glanced to his left and caught a glimpse of my plastic todger, he did a double take and began to fearfully strain himself in an attempt to empty his bladder as quickly as possible. I still imagine him running out of the gents to his parent's table to tell them a cyborg was urinating in the pub's loos, and him getting a thick ear for telling porkies.
I also never expected to become an expert on sanitary towels. However, they happen to be a highly effective addition to my dressings, preventing any of the strange products that emanate from my crater-filled bottom getting through my trousers and causing me to look not only slightly handicapped with my walking stick, but also incapable of stopping damp patches appearing around my non-existent rear passage. Ladies, all I can say is you have my sympathy! Having to wear them all day and night, I can only say they are effective but uncomfortable to an unimagined degree. Mind you, I used to think that bit about the wings and the "highly absorbent core" was all bollocks, and am pleasantly surprised to discover that not all marketing speak is a pack of lies! It turns out that core is really absorbent, although Sarah finds my marvelling at this fact a little distasteful, and, let's face it, more than a little surreal. Talk about "Conversations You Never Thought You'd Have" - husband and wife comparing and discussing which size would best suit him must rank pretty high in the weirdness stakes!
Just to also say thanks to all those people who have sent me some very supportive messages since the appearance of my blog, and for all of your love too. I'll be back again soon!