Tuesday, May 15, 2018

Another Pesky UTI

May 15, 2018
Hi, Tracy.
Just when I thought it was safe to go back in the water . . . another pesky UTI. I've been back only a few days from my road trip, and today I felt that tingling that told me something was possibly happening. Then I had to visit the bathroom several times and it became increasingly obvious that that old aggravation was returning. I dropped an AZO pill to keep the discomfort down; that's the pill that produces that really rich yellow color like the freshest and richest of egg yolks. After a while that yellowing effect occurred, but then the color got richer with a healthy infusion of red. No question now.

I've been drinking lots of water and reading up on UTIs. One question I had is whether they can go away on their own. In rare instances they can. You can help this along by forcing water, which tends to reduce the ph of the urine; the closer it is to neutral, the better, according to one source. There are also the nostrums about what to drink to bring it under control, and some of the suggestions are way out. Cranberry juice is a familiar story, but today was the first time I read that you can add a teaspoon of urine to the water you're drinking and it may help.

No thank you.

One time at urgent care I passed a lot of bright red lemonade, and then the urine suddenly ran clear again. The medical staff prescribed antibiotics. My method this time is to see whether it will run its course and stop generating blood. I'm not burdened with incontinence, and the urge to pee hasn't been uncontrollable, so I'm going to treat this as a learning session. I'll eventually contact my urologist, but not until I've seen the progress of this latest aggravation.

May 15, 2018: Postscript


I slept through the night, awakening occasionally to pee, but never with great urgency. I experienced no incontinence. By morning the ASO was out of my system and the urine was clear. Not sure whether all the bacteria are gone from my system, but the symptoms are all gone.


Love,
Dad