Pee

So I was in bed, late, well early, let’s say it was dark, and my Ex was beside me. Her face was squished on my pillow, looking all hot or retarded, drool coming out of her mouth’s corner which by now was not even a corner, not even a misshaped trapezoid, not even a violin’s f-hole. Ok maybe it was that.

My bladder was stinging and I felt like smoking, but mostly I felt like peeing. I stood up; my thumb’s nail ran under my bellybutton so as to lower my underpants but it traveled all the way down to my scrotum and almost past my perineum when I thought: Hang on a minute, I’m naked. Ah yes! I was naked. What a relief. And then I went on with my second relief, which started as my first but that’s life for ya I guess: Full with dreams, good intentions, aspirations of first prizes and crap... mostly crap. And off I went, sat my pee free and mused over the song of Pee and Poop (with the double Ps –maybe three- with their double “ee” and their double “oo”).

“EEEEee” shouted my Ex, as I was peeing on the bed.
“OOoo” sighed I as I twitched my head.
“Why the fuck are you peeing on the bed?”
“Hey, can we rhyme twice with bed?”
“Thrice, Ted.”
“And who is Ted?”
“EEee…” she said.
“This is going nowhere Ex.”
“You’re right. I got nothing but ‘spandex’.”
“How ‘bout sex?”
“No!”

So there I was, peeing on my side of the bed, drip, shake, drip, when there was blood, oozing out last. I could say it was red, but so could Ted, that bastard. What the crap is that? I thought.

And off I went to the doctors, known as the other bastards, and they had their exams on me, with their probes and my hemorrhoids, with their ‘needles full of blood’ and their ‘plastic gloves’, with their dicks in my ass. (Note to self: Maybe I should erase that last one.)

“Hey Alex,” inquired Herr Doctor. “You like to smoke huh? A bit of a fag after lunch? A roll of tobaccee after sex? Huh? A bit of a draw to calm the nerves? To balance the day? It’s crazy out there, right? In the REAL world? Is it full of melancholy and depression?.... HUUUUUH!?” screamed eventually the doctor.
“Well, I guess,” I hesitated.
“Well I guess,” he replied, imitating mockingly my answer, stressing mightily on the I, “you have BLADDER CANCER!... Hahahahahahaaaaa. How about that?”
“I’ll quit? Heh…”
“Get ready. We’ll try and remove it (‘it’ being the famous tumor without humor), I with my esteemed colleagues, tomorrow, IF we have the time.”

And they showed me to my bed, which was in a fairly large room, called a URO wing, without any feathers, birds or chicks but full of smelly old farts, forty-nine of them to be exact, and a wide collection of urine-filled baggies. Oh yes. Pee turned into Urine here, driven madly by scientific conviction, while being aware, all the way, of its many follies and sickly colors.

I tried to sleep. Unsuccessfully. I tried to masturbate (and to everybody’s surprise); successfully. Then sleep came (and yes I’m aware of the pun). Oh sweet, hand-induced ejaculation. I can always count on you…

***

Something was slapping me on the face. Thankfully it was an open palm.

“Wake up, it’s tomorrow,” said a nurse, somewhat beautiful in general and definitely in comparison with the others.
“How did you know I was writing about yesterday?”
“Come we’ll get you shaved.”
“What for? You should know that I never shave.”
“Hmmm. Interesting. Why don’t you tell it to someone who cares?” she said sarcastically. “Like that guy,” and she pointed to a male nurse, balancing between heavily geriatric and a grave, whose hands were shaking like mad cows. Of course!

Three hours later, after fainting twice (once from sheer fear and once from blood loss) and a praising comment, in no uncertain terms, of my member’s vast presence (which could be sarcastic, since there was laughter and tweezers involved) I ran out.

“Where have you been?” asked the somewhat-beautiful-in-general-and-definitely-in-comparison-with-the-others nurse.
“Around,” I said, playing it cool as a cat.
“Strip. You’re going into surgery.”

I stripped. “Brrrrr… isn’t it cold?” I asked.

She looked at my shriveled pee pee and shook her head No. Goddamn it!

Soon I was on a wheeled bed, getting pushed through corridors and metal plated doors, while under the covers I was butt naked and masturbating nonchalantly. Mind you not for pleasure. I figured if I was partly swollen I’ll be better off with the surgery ladies. Oh yeah!
I could hear gasps and screams and the occasional “Jesus Christ” along the way so it’s possible people could see me. I wouldn’t know.

 

While waiting in the surgery’s waiting room, another nurse (this one SUPER HOT) stood beside my bed and started talking.

“So what’s your name?” she asked. “Is that your file? Are you Alex?”
“Hmmm!” I moaned.

She placed my file over my immediate crotch area and started fumbling about it, writing on it and stuff.

“Oooooooooh,” I moaned again.
“I can see you’re all signed up, shaved and ready.”
“Yes!...mmm… ready.”
“Ok then, off you go.”
“Aahh!” I exclaimed and squeezed out a barely audible Thank you Ms.'

 

The surgery room was really cold. For real. No, seriously. It is so to keep the air cool and germ-free and because colder molecules are easier to… OK it was warm!

 

They put me on the surgery table. A bunch of masked people were there, including a group of training nurses standing in one corner, all laughing and speculating.

“Sooooooo,” said the anesthesiologist, while tapping a vein. “How FAT are you?”
“Errr.. 110 kilos?” I lied.
“Really? You look ninety-five,” she replied.

She was right but you see, their narcotics are really yummy. Lie about your weight (adding a dozen or so Kgs) and you get a higher dose. And a higher dose translates into more fun for everybody. And by everybody I really mean me. They might have a hard time waking me up. Hahahahaa, they’ll shit their pants.

But hey, for those forty seconds between the injection and blackout, Cancer is totally worth it.

“Oh man, this stuff is GREAT,” I muttered, but I could be shouting. It can go either way.

 

As I was blacking out and they took away my sheet I heard a nurse saying: “Haha, I told you men with long hair have a small pe