"MARK CHRISTOPHER writes: " Interesting contraption they used for pissing during the early space missions. Apparently, it was like a condom... they'd roll this latex covering over their dick, and take a leak into the contraption that'd collect it and probably shoot it off into space."
HinTysen wrote: "These are called "condom catheters." We wore them a month ago for Oktoberfest bar-hopping. They roll onto your dick and stick (with adhesive) to the skin and pubes at the base. The piss goes into a tube down your leg into a bag strapped to your ankle. Except for one of the guys, who taped the end of the tube to his shoe and just hung his leg over the curb, lifted his pant leg and drained the vein."
Tae writes:
Ahh, this brings back memories ...
The condom catheters, aka 'Texas' caths, are used for people with incontinence problems, but for some reason or other, cannot tolerate a catheter in the bladder (usually due to an enlarged prostate).
Two memories come to mind:
Once, when I decided to drive to NYC, I couldn't really be bothered with the notion of pissing during my six-hour drive. So I rolled one of these babies onto my choad, and detached the leg-bag, allowing the tube to hang out from the driver's side door. Anytime I felt the urge, I just let go, the urine flowing down the tube, and out the door.
It was just me, the cath, and a two two-liter bottles of Mountain Dew. And by god we made it.
The second memory that comes to mind happened a couple of years ago. I received a call for a 'man with a problem,' and arrived to find a paraplegic man in bed, who simply called us to re-attach his 'Texas' cath.
He had no use of his legs, and limited use of his arms, so fine motor skills were out of the question. He did, however, have all sorts of things hung around his bed - bottles of Jim Beam with straws, water bottles, bags of chips, and several TV remotes. He was drunk at the time he called us, and after he opened the front door by remote-control, was found in the bedroom, waving a nickel-plated .38.
"My fucking catheter fell off!" he yelled.
"Well, what do you want us to do about it?"
"Fucking put it back on."
"Listen man, I ain't touching your thing unless I have to. We'll take you to the hospital."
Then we thought about the process of extricating this man, driving him to the hospital, then filling out the paperwork for the call, and decided it wasn't worth. We agreed that it was best to replace the catheter there, clear-up as a 'public assist' and go back to bed. There was only one problem. *Who* was going to put the thing on.
As usual, I lost the coin-toss, and several minutes later, I was touching this guy's shrivelled schlong with my double-gloved hands. Trouble was, he wasn't the most hygenic person around, and I had to *clean* the damn thing before I could re-apply the cath. Also there's an _adhesive_ you apply to the penis to make sure that it doesn't get dislodged.
So here I am with this packet of adhesive, this guy's shrivelled dick, which looked more like a Vienna sausage that'd been left out in the sun too long than a penis, and the guy being drunk, giggling as he looked at my obvious disgust.
Sometimes it helps if the penis is, well, a bit ... angry, as it helps when you roll the condom on. That was not an option with this guy. Quite frankly, if it *did* get angry, I'd drop the damn thing and leave.
I finally got the catheter on, with my partner on the sidelines, trying not to laugh, and the guy staring at me, laughing his fucking head off. I made him scrawl a 'refusal for treatment' form and left.
I guess I used too much adhesive, as the next week, my company got another call to his address, this time by the visiting nurse, who was having trouble *removing* the cath. Someone else transported him.
- Tae
(Originally posted on 28 Oct 1994)
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