It's a universal law, as dictated by moi: You cannot become a compassionate human being until you have peed in your pants at least once.
I myself peed in my pants several times in elementary school and, to my horror, there was one cute boy named "John" (real name!) who always reminded me about it. Then I moved to a different neighborhood and never saw him again. In college, I became friends with a girl who had the same last name as that boy. I didn't think anything of it until one day when she mentioned her brother "John."
Although it had been years since John and the peed-pants occurrences, a bolt of horror smacked me in the head and I observed her carefully to see whether SHE KNEW. Just in case John had compiled a dossier on me and my former lack of bladder control. It ended fine: Although it turned out that she really was his sister, she acted all normal and everything. I'm still convinced that SHE KNEW. But the girl was a discreet saint. Wherever she is now (for we didn't become lifelong friends or anything), I hope she's happy, healthy and enjoying her lottery winnings in a great town where they recycle.
Why do I share this? Because I'm a sharer. Sometimes too much. At a New Year's Eve party we were congratulating a guest on finishing her first marathon when I decided to share the story of a woman who had been running in the same marathon when her cell phone rang and she learned that her sister had just died. Halfway through the story, it occurred to me that perhaps this was not the best tale to be sharing at a festive occasion, but it was too late. I had already given out most of the specifics and several people were staring at me solemnly and muttering, "How sad!" I really should attend more parties.
Anyway, back to peeing in pants. I was reminded of this when I read this posting in one of my favorite blogs, Boobs, Injuries and Dr. Pepper. In it, blog creator Crystal shares her adventures of passing out and peeing in her pants while donating blood. It's hilarious! Well, I think you had to be there. I highly suggest you give it a read but not while you're eating a salad. You'll see why. You're welcome.
Photo by Rena Marou for openphoto.net
2 comments:
i'll share...when i was in the hospital after i felldownthestairsandbrokemyleg, they pumped me full of fluids and then took me on a fun ride three floors down and over for an MRI. but i couldn't hold my bladder and peed myself before we ever made it to the machine.
the lovely young man orderly was very patient with me. apparently this happens often in his line of work.
i however, was humiliated.
You poor thing! Thanks for sharing. I think any peeing done in a medical setting should be exempt from humiliation, don't you think?
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