I remember the first time I realised how serious my prostate trouble was. I was having a drink in my local bar, and went to the toilet, but try, as I might no urine came out.† Sometimes before, I had to pour cold water over my penis to encourage it to go it usually went in the end.† This time was different, it started to get painful my wife drove me to the hospital and I booked into emergency. They pushed a tube down my penis and I felt the welcome release.† I was kept in hospital for two days under observation.† When I arrived home, I could only urinate slowly, but at least it was working.† My doctor put me in the charge of two male nurses, who ran a twenty four hour emergency service, and they could refit the tube and bag if I called them.† My urine stopped flowing again about a month later, and I called on the nurseís service.
My doctor said I had had two warnings and I should not wait for a third.† I was told it would be months before I could have the operation, I considered going private, but a neighbour had gone to a private hospital with the same complaint as me, his operation went wrong and now he has got to wear a bag for life.† He went back to the National Health hospital in the hope they could help him to get rid of the bag, but up until now he is still wearing it.† It was now eight months since I had the trouble in the bar, I had been on the waiting list since then, but no date hade been fixed for my operation.† I booked a weekís holiday in Spain, my wife was worried that I wouldn't be able to call up the emergency nurses, but I felt better and decided to take a chance.† In Spain I was walking along a perfectly flat marble pavement when I managed to fall over on my right knee.† Although no damage had been caused, as we had holiday insurance I had it checked with a local doctor.† He could find nothing wrong.† He decided to send me to the hospital for a second opinion.† At the hospital I was given various checks on my knee but no fault could be found.† By now the pain had gone completely, but the doctors were making such an effort, I didn't have the heart to tell them.... the doctor asked me if I had anything else wrong with me that could cause a stiff leg?† I told him that I had been waiting eight months for a prostate operation.† I was taken to another room full of machines, and had various checks.† Then they asked me to sit in the waiting room.† After about twenty minutes the doctor came through with my results, he said I had an enlarged prostate that was filling my bladder, and I should have it operated on as soon as possible.† He told me this on a Friday.† On the following Monday morning he preformed the operation.
I woke up in the ward, being looked after by the most hygienic looking nurses I had ever seen, anyone worried about going into a British hospital and catching a disease worse than they went in with will be reassured by this hospital.† Its like future world, everything is shining white.† All the staff and patients are dressed in white. The wards are sterilised every morning and afternoon, even the lifts are sterilised daily the cleaner told me.† The surgeons donít go from bed to bed in their ordinary suits like they do in Britain, they are all in white, and even have throw away plastic shoe covers.† A patient told me that the hospital is considered one of the finest in Europe, and people come from all over the world to use it.
Back home in England, many people found it interesting that I had my operation in Spain, I was surprised that so many men had had the same symptoms as me, some had already had the operation, on the national health or privately.
Now I don't wish to mislead anybody, and I have no idea of what the success or failure rate of people having prostate operations in Britain is.† I can only say the people I met didnít have the same success that I had, some had the same operation two or three times, some had to wear the outside bag for life.† Some people told me that they were worried that if they had the operation it could affect their sex drive.† I can only speak in my own case it improved mine!
I started to realise how lucky I had been, and I thanked the day I fell on my knee and had the operation in Spain.† It gave me a new lease of life; I was no longer tied to a certain area, with the thought of the plastic pipe and the emergency nurses.† Another good thing, the operation cost less than half the price it is in Britain.† There was no cancer involved in my case, so I cant give any advise on that, you should see your own doctor first, this advise should only support not replace the advise of your own doctor.† I realise other peoples problems are different from mine, and I cannot accept any responsibility for misuse of this information.
Friends said I should put it on the internet to help fellow sufferers, I can send you my surgeons name and address so you can deal with him direct if you like, or if you just want a chat, where to go what to do from somebody who has been through it.
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