A Simple Torture . . .
. . . has been devised by my urologist.
Once a a week, he places me in the hands — literally — of a pleasant young lady who proceeds to jam a tube up into my bladder to fill it with a half-cupful of a tuberculosis vaccine that also combats bladder cancer. Rather than put up with my screams in their office, I am told to go home and hold the caustic solution for at least an hour but no longer than two hours and to make sure I pour bleach into the toilet bowl right after I empty my bladder —

but no estimate on how many days he expects me to scream when I pee.
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