There really is a first time for everything. This one felt like a scene straight out of a movie—just not the version anyone imagines playing out in real life.
It started simply enough. I kept telling the nurse, “Just take my pants off.” Practical request. Straightforward. Instead, she solved the problem decisively by tearing them right off—pants, underwear, everything. No ceremony. No hesitation. One moment I was clothed, the next I was in a hospital gown, wondering how quickly dignity can disappear in a medical setting.
The reason was less funny than the execution. I was peeing every two minutes. Not five. Two. Constantly. On top of that, I wasn’t allowed to move my right leg because the procedure had gone through an arterial vein. My INR—my blood’s clotting marker—was extremely high. At 1.95, it meant my blood was behaving as if I were on a very powerful blood thinner. If bleeding started, stopping it would be a serious problem.
So there I was, lying flat, leg immobilized, exhausted, wanting to sleep, and needing to pee again almost immediately after I’d just gone. Even while recording an update, the urge came back. That part of the story would have to wait until the next day, once I’d had a chance to update my family first and get more clarity from the doctors.
What stood out most during all of this wasn’t discomfort or frustration—it was perspective. I genuinely appreciate the messages, comments, likes, and encouragement that come in when I share updates. I post humor on purpose. I joke. I make light of moments that could easily feel heavy. That doesn’t mean I’m minimizing what’s happening or asking for pity. Quite the opposite.
I see this as an experience. A journey. One that I refuse to walk through with bitterness or self-pity. I believe things happen for a reason. There’s a plan, even if it’s not clear yet, and I want to take advantage of what I’m learning along the way. Not everyone in my position would see it this way, and that’s okay. But the lessons, insights, and perspective I’m gaining through this are things I’ll carry with me for the rest of my life.
Maybe I’ll use them to help others someday. Maybe they’ll shape what I do next. I don’t know yet. What I do know is that I’m going to keep having fun with it. Humor doesn’t disappear just because circumstances get hard. If anything, it becomes more important.
So feel free to laugh. If the jokes land, great. If they don’t, that’s fine too. Bad dad jokes are kind of my thing, and they were long before I was ever a dad.
Thank you to everyone who’s following along, supporting, and encouraging me. It means more than I can properly explain. I’ll keep sharing, I’ll keep checking in, and yes—apparently—I’ll keep needing to pee.
More soon.
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