I went to the doctor last week to get a few things checked out. She ordered an insane amount of blood work, an ultrasound of my thyroid, and a urine test. Simple, right? Except that peeing in a cup used to terrify me because I HATE touching urine and I was always scared that I would somehow get dripped on. When the lab handed me two huge jugs and instructed me to collect all of my urine for two days, I was beyond grossed out. Worse yet is having to store these nasty jugs in our refrigerator... next to our milk... for all to see. And so much for having weekend plans, because there was no way I was toting my pee tupperware with me out to dinner, to the movies, or to church.
But once I got into the hang of going to the bathroom in a bowl, it wasn't so bad. In fact, it was kind of reminiscent of the old potty-chair days. By 8 o'clock this morning, I was finally done. Two full days worth of pee collected, refrigerated, and put in my car to be dropped off at the hospital after church. I even double bagged the jugs, just to be sure..... But let's face it. I've had 29 years of pretty lousy luck, and it was just poor judgement to think that an extra plastic bag would be enough to break the unlucky spell that is my life! So what I didn't realize before was that there was a tiny, pin-prick sized hole toward the top of jug number 2 (it was filled with number 1, just to clarify). And when I put the jugs in my car, they tipped, ever so slightly, allowing a thin stream of day-old urine to fill the first bag. Only bag number 1 had a small tear in the bottom.... as did bag number 2.
I pulled into the hospital parking lot, dressed in my Sundy best. I gathered up my belongings and reached over to grab the jug bag. I never even saw the stream pouring onto the seat, center console, and floor. I set the bag in my lap while I fiddled with my keys. It was a slow realization. I can't even remember if it was the smell or the wet sensation that assaulted me first, but it eventually became apparent what had happened. I jumped out of the car, gagging and dry-heaving in the parking lot as I realized that my entire lap was drenched in my own, refrigerated pee. I tried wringing out my pants and coat while still wearing them, which just made everything drip down my leg. I quickly glanced around the lot to make sure no one was watching me as I yelled and gagged and acted like a fool. I looked at my clock and reazlied I didn't have time to make it back home before my ultrasound appointment, so me and my jugs (yes, I do realize how that sounds) went into the visitor's bathroom of the hospital as I scrubbed myself down and hoped to God that no one would notice my very wet lap. It was only when the ultrasound technician asked me to remove my jacket that I started to feel incredibly embarrassed. Afterall, if it looks like urine, and it smells like urine, it's probably urine! Thankfully, as I turned to undo my coat, she shut the lights off in order to better see the ultrasound screen. I can only hope that she had a stuffy nose as well.
I rode home sitting in the damp driver's seat and immediately laundered my outfit. My husband, thinking he's sooo funny, offered to pee on the rest of me to even things out. I doubt I'll ever live this one down, and I pray that the good Lord takes me home before I ever end up in adult diapers.
But once I got into the hang of going to the bathroom in a bowl, it wasn't so bad. In fact, it was kind of reminiscent of the old potty-chair days. By 8 o'clock this morning, I was finally done. Two full days worth of pee collected, refrigerated, and put in my car to be dropped off at the hospital after church. I even double bagged the jugs, just to be sure..... But let's face it. I've had 29 years of pretty lousy luck, and it was just poor judgement to think that an extra plastic bag would be enough to break the unlucky spell that is my life! So what I didn't realize before was that there was a tiny, pin-prick sized hole toward the top of jug number 2 (it was filled with number 1, just to clarify). And when I put the jugs in my car, they tipped, ever so slightly, allowing a thin stream of day-old urine to fill the first bag. Only bag number 1 had a small tear in the bottom.... as did bag number 2.
I pulled into the hospital parking lot, dressed in my Sundy best. I gathered up my belongings and reached over to grab the jug bag. I never even saw the stream pouring onto the seat, center console, and floor. I set the bag in my lap while I fiddled with my keys. It was a slow realization. I can't even remember if it was the smell or the wet sensation that assaulted me first, but it eventually became apparent what had happened. I jumped out of the car, gagging and dry-heaving in the parking lot as I realized that my entire lap was drenched in my own, refrigerated pee. I tried wringing out my pants and coat while still wearing them, which just made everything drip down my leg. I quickly glanced around the lot to make sure no one was watching me as I yelled and gagged and acted like a fool. I looked at my clock and reazlied I didn't have time to make it back home before my ultrasound appointment, so me and my jugs (yes, I do realize how that sounds) went into the visitor's bathroom of the hospital as I scrubbed myself down and hoped to God that no one would notice my very wet lap. It was only when the ultrasound technician asked me to remove my jacket that I started to feel incredibly embarrassed. Afterall, if it looks like urine, and it smells like urine, it's probably urine! Thankfully, as I turned to undo my coat, she shut the lights off in order to better see the ultrasound screen. I can only hope that she had a stuffy nose as well.
I rode home sitting in the damp driver's seat and immediately laundered my outfit. My husband, thinking he's sooo funny, offered to pee on the rest of me to even things out. I doubt I'll ever live this one down, and I pray that the good Lord takes me home before I ever end up in adult diapers.
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