Little Boys and Urologists with Hiking Boots

During a routine check-up in May, Owen's doctor discovered that he suffers from "meatal stenosis" (interpretation: his pee hole is too small). She reassured us that this is a common condition in 3-and-4-year old boys and she diagnoses it at least once a week. So she referred us to a pediatric urologist in Grand Rapids.

Monday afternoon, Owen and I visited Dr. Steinhardt, a curt, middle-aged man who wears hiking boots with his shirt and tie.  We waited in his waiting room for over 40-minutes, and visited with him in his exam room for exactly 12 minutes. I was under the impression he would examine Owen and complete a simple, uncomplicated procedure to fix the problem.

Dr. Hiking Boots is a man of few words and has a well-organized drawer of information.  He spoke entirely too fast, used words I didn't understand and left no time for questions.  Does Owen experience daytime wetting? No. Nighttime wetting? No. Urinary Infections? No. Does it take him longer than 25 seconds to pee? I don't know...I haven't timed him!  Is the circumference of his flow more like a base string on a guitar or the high string? Huh?  He demonstrated with an expandable pocket pointer. I smiled but didn't get it.

Next he examined Owen, and invited me to watch. I sheepishly stepped to the table and smiled at Owen, who was being such a good patient, and far to young to be embarrassed.

The doc promptly finished his exam, washed his hands, opened his drawer of knowledge and thrust an information sheet about Owen's condition in my hands.  (Apparently he sensed I wasn't following completely and thought if I saw the big medical terms on paper I would suddenly understand).  He concluded that, although the hole is smaller than normal, the procedure wasn't "medically necessary". Owen doesn't display any symptoms of discomfort or danger.  He assured me that now that Owen is out of diapers, the hole will remain this size. Now how about his bowels and constipation? (I really should be a more observant mother). Doc produced another useful handout that described constipation in youth.

I was afraid to ask whether this would affect Owen in the long-term - you know - reproductively.  There is probably a handout for that too.

So, in sum, Owen's pediatrician recommended an unnecessary procedure that only becomes necessary if your four-year-old takes longer than 25 seconds to pee, should be peeing every 2.5 hours, the circumference of the flow should be more like that of a base guitar string and he should not suffer from constipation.  Parents with little boys take note.

I'm thankful Owen didn't need to undergo the procedure. (We could always visit again if he develops "problems").  I'm also thankful Owen can't read this blog, as I'm sure he will be utterly embarrassed when he reads it at upon graduation. Just kidding.