Why Is There Blood In My Urine

    is there

  • a canon source for power levels beyond the Frieza saga? Because if not, I agree that we shouldn’t just throw out numbers that have no backing. — nonoitall 03:40, 15 August 2008 (UTC)

    blood

  • The red liquid that circulates in the arteries and veins of humans and other vertebrate animals, carrying oxygen to and carbon dioxide from the tissues of the body
  • An internal bodily fluid, not necessarily red, that performs a similar function in invertebrates
  • smear with blood, as in a hunting initiation rite, where the face of a person is smeared with the blood of the kill
  • temperament or disposition; “a person of hot blood”
  • the fluid (red in vertebrates) that is pumped through the body by the heart and contains plasma, blood cells, and platelets; “blood carries oxygen and nutrients to the tissues and carries away waste products”; “the ancients believed that blood was the seat of the emotions”
  • Violence involving bloodshed

    urine

  • Urine is a sterile, liquid by-product of the body that is secreted by the kidneys through a process called urination and excreted through the urethra. Cellular metabolism generates numerous by-products, many rich in nitrogen, that require elimination from the bloodstream.
  • Liquid excrement consisting of water, salts and urea, which is made in the kidneys, stored in the bladder, then released through the urethra
  • A watery, typically yellowish fluid stored in the bladder and discharged through the urethra. It is one of the body’s chief means of eliminating excess water and salt and also contains nitrogen compounds such as urea and other waste substances removed from the blood by the kidneys
  • liquid excretory product; “there was blood in his urine”; “the child had to make water”

why is there blood in my urine

A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius – Dave Eggers

A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius - Dave Eggers
Stephen is a grad student at Berkeley, from England or Scotland. Or Ireland. He is quiet, bores Toph to tears, and rides a bicycle with a huge wicker basket attached to the front. Beth found him at school; he had posted a flyer.

“Hey,” I say.

“Hello,” he says.

He brings his bicycle into the living room.

I go into my room to change. I come out, tell him that I’ll be back by midnight –

“Actually, can you stay until one?”

“I don’t see why not.”

“Good. Then let’s say one.”

“Fine.”

“But I might be early.”

“Okay then.”

“Depends on what happens.”

– and I tell him that Toph should be in bed by eleven.

This is our third time with Stephen, who is replacing Nicole, who we liked a great deal – Toph liked her almost as much as I was hoping to like her – but who graduated a few months ago and had the temerity to move away. There was also Janie, the Berkeley student who insisted on having Toph come to her Telegraph Avenue apartment, and who was fine until one night, after she and Toph had been playing soccer in her hallway with a balloon – he usually came home drenched with sweat – she had joked, “You know, Toph, you’re fun to hang out with. We should go out sometime, get a few beers…”

Thus Stephen.

I kiss Toph on the head, which is covered by a baseball hat, worn backward. The hat smells like urine.

“Your hat smells like urine,” I say.

“It does not,” Toph says.

It does.

“It does.”

“How could it smell like urine?”

“Maybe you peed on it.”

He sighs, takes my hand off his shoulders.

“I didn’t pee on it.”

“Maybe by accident.”

“Shut up.”

“Don’t tell me to shut up. I’ve told you that.”

“Sorry.”

“Stephen,” I ask, “will you smell this hat and tell me is it smells like urine?”

Stephen does not think the question is a serious one. He smiles nervously, but does not make a move to smell the hat.

“Well then,” I say, “We’ll see you later. Toph, we’ll… well, I guess we’ll see you tomorrow.”

Then out the door, down the steps and into the car and as I’m backing out of the driveway there is the usual euphoria –

Free!

– which pretty much overtakes me. Often I laugh out loud, giggle, bang the steering wheel a few times, grinning, put the right tape in the stereo –

This time it lasts for ten, twelve seconds.

Then, at the moment that I am turning the corner, I become convinced, in a flash of pure truth-seeing – it happens every time I leave him anywhere – that Toph will be killed. Of course. The baby-sitter was acting peculiar, was too quiet, too unassuming. His eyes had plans. Of course. So obvious from the beginning. I ignored the signals. Toph had told me Stephen was weird, repeatedly had mentioned his scary laugh, the veggie food he brought and cooked, and I just shrugged it all off. If something happens it’ll be my fault. He will try bad things on Toph. He will try to molest Toph. While Toph is sleeping he will do something with wax and rope. The possibilities snap through my head like pedophilia flashcards – handcuffs, floorboards, clown suits, leather, videotape, duct tape, knives, bathtubs, refrigerators–
Toph will never wake up.

I should turn around. This is stupid. We don’t need this kind of risk. I don’t need to do this, don’t need to go out. It’s silly, juvenile, inconsequential. I need to go back.

But I have to do this. There is no risk.

But there is a risk.

But the risk is worth it.

I’m so, so evil.

I open the window, turn up the volume. I pass two cars at once and get on the highway and speed toward the Bay Bridge, doing 70 in the left lane, along the water.
Through the toll, the light, onto the ramp, onto the bridge. Now I can’t turn back. The Oakland shipyards to the left, a billboard encouraging the saving of water.

I will come home and the door will be open, wide. The baby-sitter will be gone and there will be silence. And at once I will know. There will be the smell of everything being perfectly wrong. At the steps up to Toph’s room there will be blood. Blood on the walls, handprints soaked in blood. A note to me, from Stephen, taunting; maybe a videotape of everth– I will be to blame. His little body, bent, blue– The baby-sitter was standing there and he had already known what he would do – as they stood there, I felt something wrong, knew something was off, I knew it was wrong… and I still left. What does that say? What kind of monster – Everyone will know. I will know, I will not fight. There will be a hearing, a trial, a show trial –

How did you come to meet this man, this baby-sitter?

We found a posting, on a bulletin board.

And how long did your interview of him take?

Ten, twenty minutes.

And that was enough?

Yes. I guess so.

You didn’t really know anything about this man, did you?

I knew he was Scottish. Or English.

Or Irish

Could have been.

And you left your brother to go where?

Out. To bars.

To bars. And what was at these bars?

Friends, people, beer.

Beer.

There was a special, I think.

A

Providence Holy Cross Medical Center

Providence Holy Cross Medical Center
Waiting for the results.

Spent some time at Holy Cross Hospital. I was prescribed Cipro (generic: ciprofloxacin), a type of antibiotic for a urinary tract infection. CT scan revealed some lesions on my liver and bladder. Making an appointment today with a Urologist.

Update 06/20/12:

I wanted to share some details. I had 3 test done at Providence Holy Cross. Cost my insurance $8,000.00. My copay was $2,000.00 1 test confirmed blood in the urine which I already knew which is why I was there and the other two test were done improperly or was incomplete. And I still did not know exactly what was wrong with me. No mention from any hospital staff that I had cancer.

Long story short. I eventually went online to my United Healthcare website and found a number to talk to a nurse who helped me with choices of other Hospitals. I chose Northridge Hospital Medical Center. I went to Emergency and they admitted me. They brought in a nurse to take care of me along with a Doctor and Urologist who successfully removed a cancerous tumor that filled my bladder. I haven’t received any astronomical bills. The experience overall was amazing.