Ardra received compensation from Coloplast to provide this information. Each person’s situation is unique so your experience may not be the same.
I love catheters and I don’t care who knows it (yes I do); I will shout it from the rooftops, I love them so bad. But it was not love at first sight. In fact, my first impression of catheters was that they were scary torture devices to be avoided at all costs. And for a long time, I did just that.
Diagnosed at 23 with multiple sclerosis, I started experiencing symptoms of a neurogenic bladder almost immediately. I suffered through years of urinary retention, chronic UTIs (urinary tract infections), and painful bruising from routinely pushing on my lower abdomen to try and coax my bladder into working.
I tried all the lifestyle stuff: more water, less water, double-voiding and bladder routines. I tried several useless drugs that all had unpleasant side-effects. When things were at their most desperate, I tried panicked prayer (please God, don’t let me pee my pants in this important meeting), and when that failed, deals with the devil (I will legally change my dog’s name to Lucifer if I make it off this subway in dry pants). Nothing I tried could get things under control, and yet I preferred these symptoms, and the occasional indignity of incontinence, to even the suggestion of a catheter.
The idea of a catheter sounded painful at worst and uncomfortable at best. More than that, it sounded like something for sick people, like really sick people. Even though I have MS, back then, I didn’t think of myself as a ‘sick’ person. What would using this device say about me?
In addition to the physical side effects of a busted bladder, things like being an overnight guest, or going on a long car ride were so stressful, I would avoid them. If I could have survived without sleep I would have done that too, because repeatedly waking my new husband to change the sheets was not a sexy way to start a marriage. My bladder was wearing me down, and after peeing the bed one too many times, I reluctantly agreed to finally give catheters a go.
It didn’t take me long to get used to using them. It didn’t hurt, and that helped. When the nurse came to train me, I was surprised to remember what it actually felt like to have a truly empty bladder. Before I knew it, using a catheter was as easy as using a tampon, and just as discreet.
Problem solved, right? Not really. In my 20’s, I didn’t know anyone who was going through this. At least when I started using tampons, my girlfriends were in the same boat, and even if we felt we had a secret, it was normalized; everyone was going through it. Adolescence is difficult, but figuring out tampons signalled a step closer to something new and exciting, to becoming an adult. Figuring out continence care felt like giving in to a more permanent, more serious state of disability. It meant acknowledging that I have more than a cute little LBL (light bladder leak) when I giggle or sneeze, like you see in the commercials. It meant having to say I’m a catheter user now.
Somehow I got over myself. It helped that catheters quickly became simple to use and not nearly as scary as I’d imagined. It helped even more that I suddenly didn’t have to plan my life around my bathroom options. I had to figure out that managing my continence care was not giving in to my MS; it was taking control of it. I stopped putting so much meaning into a tiny plastic tube. Culturally, we tend to vilify the tools that are associated with disability instead of seeing them for what they are: tools. Tools that help us get on with our day, live our lives, have another glass of wine at dinner and not pee our pants.
Earlier, I said I would proclaim my love for catheters from the rooftops, that I don’t care who knows it. But I do care. I will sign my name to catheters because I want people who are suffering to know that there is a better way, that there are solutions, and I refuse to acknowledge or accept any stigma around something that has helped me so much. Of all the things MS has thrown at me, my neurogenic bladder has been something I can control.
