I went in today for a fairly routine “cystoscopy” at Sunnybrooke Health Sciences Centre – a lovely hospital nestled in an upscale area of Toronto.

The primary reason for the test, other than my urologist taking every opportunity to inflct more scopes on me, is two-fold: I have not seen him in a little over a year and he wanted to run the test to make sure that the interior wall of the bladder is okay, no tears or additional scar tissue. I got to see the lovely full visuals on the monitor. My bladder is all pink with scar tissue around where the multiple incisions have been done. There is also scarring from the multiple (100+) infections I’ve had in the past 25 years. I’m up to about 20 a year now…yeah!

The second reason for the test, and those who have been faithfully following my blog since last year will know this, I want to have a child. Currently I am physically unable to due to the first operation I had when I was 2 weeks old. At the time the doctors were more concerned with saving my life than thinking that I may want to eventually have sex in 30 years time. Yuppers, I am not able. So the second reason for today’s cysto was to get a urologist’s perspective of the necessary surgery to be done.

So now I am dealing with 3 surgeons – 1 gynecologist, 1 urologist, and 1 uro-gynecologist. The three of them agree on the surgery – cut into the perineum (sp?) to increase the size of the vaginal opening. There is one concern for my urologist – by doing this surgery and lifting the cervix (which is prolapsing into the bladder and thereby ensuring that I am reasonably “dry”) I will become excessively incontinent. So, the argument I’ve been having with the urologist for the past 5 years has reared its ugly head again – he wants to close off the urethra and build a “stoma” (tunnel to a side exist off my waist) so that I will be dry. I am seriously considering this now…

On a bright note, I have now an inexhaustible scrip for Noroxin – that beautfiul and wonderous antibiotic I take for UTIs… yes folks, I don’t need to go to a GP and beg for a scrip. I have one.. and I’m not afraid to use it.