Hey Substack savages, let me break down this ridiculous anthem I just wrote for you — ”The Urethra Blues,” It’s the true story of my week-long kidney stone hostage crisis, told with all the gory, hilarious details. Here’s the play-by-play:
[Verse 1]
That’s me hearing my bladder screaming from miles away because one tiny asshole pebble decided to squat in my urethra like it’s prime real estate. Couldn’t pee for a day, ended up with a full liter backed up—pure agony. Stuck with a piss bag taped to my thigh, feeling like I’m in prison.
[Chorus]
Straight facts: I’ve got the “Urethra Blues”—pissing through a tube, every spasm feels like a gunshot to the junk, leaks everywhere. The stone’s the jailer keeping me locked up, but Monday (well, now tomorrow) I’m breaking out with the doctor’s help.
[Verse 2]
The ER nightmare: barely peeing at 3 AM, then the hero nurse hits me with ketamine and wrangles the catheter past the stone like a rodeo pro while I’m floating on the ceiling wondering if I’m dying or just high.
[Chorus]
More truth: blood in the bag like a horror movie, spasms waking me up with heart jumps, but Dr. Ahmed’s on deck to scope the little crook, pull the tube, and set me free.
[Verse 3]
Smoking heaps of weed to stay sane, tamsulosin melting me into the bed, 20 years of stones I thought were “normal”—but tomorrow afternoon, we end this bastard’s reign.
[Bridge]
The dream: no more bag, no tug, no phantom pee urgency, no midnight howlers. When the catheter comes out, I’ll raise a glass to the nurse who saved my bladder and the doc who finally listened.
[Final Chorus]
The blues are almost gone—the stone’s getting lasered or yanked tomorrow, and if I never see another rock in my pipe, I’ll piss into the sunset shouting “Amen!”
This song is my battle cry after days of bureaucracy hell, answering service torture, wrong referrals, and living with a garden hose taped to my dick. Tomorrow at 2:30 PM, the rodeo ends.
Send good vibes, laughs, or weed—I’ll update when I’m finally peeing free.
