The Feisty Fontan

Twenty three pounds of fluid. Twenty three pounds. Almost 15% of my body weight in less than a week.

What’s my secret? A constant flow of IV Lasix and the wondrous, new fangled Pee Vacuum. Ok, it’s actually called a Pure Wick External Female Catheter. But pee vacuum sounds a lot more fun.

I’ve been on oral diuretics for years. Before I ended up in the hospital, I was taking 160mg of Lasix a day, which should be enough to diurese an elephant. I am use to peeing a lot. Like really a lot. Being able to pee for seven minutes straight is my stupid human trick. When I go to the ladies room with a friend she’ll do her business, wash and dry her hands, reapply a face full of makeup, fix her hair and be outside waiting before I am done peeing.

Despite my long and proud history of professional level peeing expertise, I was totally and completely ill prepared for the volume that was about to exit my body. So, according to my research of Internet science, a gallon of  water weighs about 8 pounds, so 23 pounds of fluid is 2.875 gallons, so we’ll just round out up to three. That may not sound like a lot for being over the course of several days, but let me tell you it FELT like a lot. Especially when a gallon would come flowing out of me all at once.

When I arrived in the cardiac ICU the nurse started to explain to me the IV diuretics, how intense it would be and the options I had for helping me with the process. As she explained the Pure Wick and what it was, I said “no thank you” and asked for other choices…because I was so sure that using the actual real life toilet that was 15 feet away would be an option. (Spoiler Alert: It was NOT an option—when a fainting spell precipitated your hospital stay and you’re on heavy duty blood pressure meds, medical professionals tend to classify you as a “fall risk”. ) As she explained my actual options, all which involved me staying in bed to pee, I started to come around to the idea of the pee vacuum.

I will spare you the details of what it took to get the pee vacuum fully situated and in place (believe it or not even I have a TMI line that I am not ready to cross), but because I didn’t have the necessary “thunder thighs” (the nurse’s word, not mine) that helps keep it in place, let’s just say it took a little creativity.

The first time using the pee vacuum took some effort…actually it took some mental fortitude. My body and brain are trained to pee on a toilet like the adult I claim to be. My brain knows that I am both too old and too young to be peeing in a bed. I had to have my mom turn on the water faucet and talk about waterfalls and the ocean.  It took more concentration and focus that just about anything else I’ve done to get that dam to break.

But once it broke, there was no stopping it. The Pure Wick is attached to a suction hose which is attached to a canister in the room. On several occasions, my mom had to run out of the room screaming for the nurse because I was about to overfill the canister. And then it took more mental fortitude and a hell of a lot of bladder strength to stop long enough for the nurse to empty the canister.

One of the best features of the pee vacuum is the delightful sounds it makes. Remember the rain sticks they sold at like Sharper Image? That is what the suction on the actual device sounds like. As the pee flows thru the hose, the sound of wet towels being snapped in a locker room gets added in. And finally, to round out the cacophony, as it hits the canister the sound of a heavy rain overfilling a broken gutter fills the room.

And the best part of all this…as I literally laying in a bed peeing a gallon at a time into a device that creates such melodious noises, my mom, dad and husband are in the room. All kinds of doctors and med students are stopping by. The food service people are coming to take my lunch order. Housekeeping comes in to check my room. I am just laying there, peeing out every ounce of fluid I have ever drank, giving absolutely zero cares.

Now, the Pure Wick didn’t really save my life. However, as awkward and as weird at it was, it did help make a miserable process a lot easier. Heck, after my cardiac cath, when I couldn’t move for 6 hours and had to pee, I even requested the Pure Wick. But the greatest benefit the pee vacuum provided me was the laughs it brought my family and I. Between my dad’s dad joke comments, my mom’s hysterical giggles, and my willingness to sacrifice my dignity for the sake of humor, we had more fun laughing over the dang pee vacuum than we have had over anything in a long time. And the laughs from the pee vacuum will live on for quite a while.