Pissing Blood

| Superhero | Part 1 |

Brandon stepped up to the urinal, unzipped his pants, and gently tugged his penis out of his underwear. He looked up at the ceiling and sighed as he felt urine coursing through his urethra.

As the flow decreased, he looked down into the urinal, only to notice his piss was oddly colored, swirling down the drain like pink lemonade. "What the fuck?" he mumbled. The man several urinals down gave him a curious sideways glance. Brandon's stream wound down and got darker, until a few drops of blood trickled from his penis. "Shit," said a little louder. The other man zipped up and quickly shuffled out of the restroom.

"There's blood in my urine," he said in hushed tones over the phone. He stood up and looked over the walls of his cubicle. His doctor asked him if he felt any pain, any discomfort or stinging when it happened. "No. Is that a good sign?" His doctor reassured him and told him to come in the following morning. Brandon gently set the phone in its cradle and sat back in his office chair. It was a bit hard for him to concentrate the rest of the day.

Brandon impatiently sat in the waiting room at his doctor's office. He looked up as the receptionist came into the room. She looked over at him, then at a mother and small boy in the opposite corner. "Conner, Dr. Tyler is ready to see you now." The mother stood up with her son and led him into the back. As she was leaving, the receptionist said to Brandon, "It will only be a minute, and Dr. Tyler will be with you." Brandon nodded OK but thought to himself, This kid better have fucking stigmata and not the sniffles; I'm fucking bleeding internally here. He was sweating and wiped his forehead with his palm. When he removed his hand it was a bit pink.

"So, Brandon, how have you been?" Dr. Taylor idly chatted as he took Brandon's pulse.

"I've been pissing blood. How do you think I've been?"

"And you said there was no pain or discomfort?" the doctor continued.

"No. It just feels like regular pee," he explained.

Dr. Taylor stopped and look Brandon in the eye as if this was significant, but only replied, "Hmm," before opening Brandon's file.

Like an uncomfortable first date the two sat in silence. The doctor read Brandon's medical history, and Brandon waited anxiously for the doctor to say something, anything. Finally, Dr. Taylor stood up and walked to the door. As he was about to step out he turned to Brandon and, almost as an afterthought, said, "It's probably just a urinary tract infection, Brandon. We'll take a urine sample and draw some blood, just in case. More than likely some amoxicillin will clear that right up in a couple of days. The nurse will be right with you."

Brandon took the rest of the day off work. He ate some cereal, drank some cranberry juice, watched cartoons, and pissed more blood.

Brandon awoke early the next morning, coughing. He tried to open his eyes, but they were sealed shut. He felt them with his fingers and found a thin layer encrusting them closed. He scraped at them frantically, until he could see. Through a haze of confusion and discomfort, Brandon stumbled to the bathroom, wheezing and choking. At the sink, he coughed up a throat-full of phlegm. It was dark red, almost black. He looked in the mirror and saw his eyes ringed in dried blood.