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| This post brought to you by my bladder. |
Day before yesterday, I was minding my own business
when out of nowhere, I was bombarded by pee. First, before I could mute the
t.v., that stupid Tena Twist ® commercial came on. You know what I’m talking
about. Tena ® is a product for bladder control issues, and the embarrassing commercial
features several average women (read: NOT thin) dancing with abandon to the
twist, made popular by Chubby Checker in 1960.
On a side note, Chubby was recently in the news because he strongly (and legally) objected to a new phone app called the "chubby checker" with which men can check the thickness or their...yeah. You get it. The problem with the app is that any guy who uses his phone for that purpose is a dick all over. But I digress.
Tena Twist ®. That's where I was. The point of Tena Twist ®, I guess, is that while you are dancing, and pee is just squirting out, the bladder control pads or briefs (gaaaaaccckkkkkk) will sop it up so you can continue looking like you are having spasms more-or-less to the beat of a 50-year-old tune. Because there is nothing more mortifying than visiting your doctor to learn the physical reason behind your leakage except maybe enduring a price check over the intercom in Wal Mart after you plop down a package of pee-leaky pads in front of guy buying a pack of Marlboros and a foreign couple who consistently ignore the "20 items or less" sign and haul up two buggies of supplies for their restaurant.
Not that I've had that experience. Yet.
My second urine run-in happened just seconds after I saw the Tena ® ad. I got up from the couch because I'd had to pee for, like, an hour, and now could no longer hold it because people on t.v. were all excited about having to pee. It must be noted that due to my recent knee injury, it takes a few moments for me to adjust to standing. So before I could quite get into fully erect mode (i.e., in which I can clamp together my gargantuan thighs in order to "hold it" when I have to go), my bladder went on the offensive.
I didn't have that regular sensation that occurs when I pee with permission. This was more like an imaginary imp pouring a 2-liter of warm something down my legs. There were no tissues nearby--which seems impossible since I keep Kleenex ® in business with my allergies--so I had no choice but to wad up the bottom of my nightgown to stanch the golden gift. Class-saaaaaaaay. Needless to say, I will be burning that garment.
So then, in my effort to make it to the potty before the coming deluge, I was stumbling down the hall clutching my peeful crotch when I stepped in a huge, cold, wet patch of carpet. My extra-thick sock wicked so much liquid that some ground water came up. I snapped my head back to glare at my poodle, and she slinked her 14-year-old bladder out of view. Bitch.
I can't tell you how much fun I had hopping on a damaged leg while trying to hold a gallon of urinary juice inside a sack with no cut-off valve. I was like a palsy victim trying to run while carrying a giant mixing bowl of sloshing water. Pee everywhere!
I finally made it to the bathroom, but it was academic. In the end, I could not get the pee to go in the one place it was acceptable. Screw incontinence! If you need me, I'm sure you can find me cleaning something. But at least I won't have to pee.
On a side note, Chubby was recently in the news because he strongly (and legally) objected to a new phone app called the "chubby checker" with which men can check the thickness or their...yeah. You get it. The problem with the app is that any guy who uses his phone for that purpose is a dick all over. But I digress.
Tena Twist ®. That's where I was. The point of Tena Twist ®, I guess, is that while you are dancing, and pee is just squirting out, the bladder control pads or briefs (gaaaaaccckkkkkk) will sop it up so you can continue looking like you are having spasms more-or-less to the beat of a 50-year-old tune. Because there is nothing more mortifying than visiting your doctor to learn the physical reason behind your leakage except maybe enduring a price check over the intercom in Wal Mart after you plop down a package of pee-leaky pads in front of guy buying a pack of Marlboros and a foreign couple who consistently ignore the "20 items or less" sign and haul up two buggies of supplies for their restaurant.
Not that I've had that experience. Yet.
My second urine run-in happened just seconds after I saw the Tena ® ad. I got up from the couch because I'd had to pee for, like, an hour, and now could no longer hold it because people on t.v. were all excited about having to pee. It must be noted that due to my recent knee injury, it takes a few moments for me to adjust to standing. So before I could quite get into fully erect mode (i.e., in which I can clamp together my gargantuan thighs in order to "hold it" when I have to go), my bladder went on the offensive.
I didn't have that regular sensation that occurs when I pee with permission. This was more like an imaginary imp pouring a 2-liter of warm something down my legs. There were no tissues nearby--which seems impossible since I keep Kleenex ® in business with my allergies--so I had no choice but to wad up the bottom of my nightgown to stanch the golden gift. Class-saaaaaaaay. Needless to say, I will be burning that garment.
So then, in my effort to make it to the potty before the coming deluge, I was stumbling down the hall clutching my peeful crotch when I stepped in a huge, cold, wet patch of carpet. My extra-thick sock wicked so much liquid that some ground water came up. I snapped my head back to glare at my poodle, and she slinked her 14-year-old bladder out of view. Bitch.
I can't tell you how much fun I had hopping on a damaged leg while trying to hold a gallon of urinary juice inside a sack with no cut-off valve. I was like a palsy victim trying to run while carrying a giant mixing bowl of sloshing water. Pee everywhere!
I finally made it to the bathroom, but it was academic. In the end, I could not get the pee to go in the one place it was acceptable. Screw incontinence! If you need me, I'm sure you can find me cleaning something. But at least I won't have to pee.
Ahhhh...you've done it again, Bloggurl. Made me laugh till I had to Pee. Totally get where you're coming from and let me tell you, it will be cold day in hell before I am standing in line waiting on a price check for Tena Twist or the like, let alone wear them. Of course, I can say that now because I got to the bathroom in time....
ReplyDeleteOhhhhh, Lisa, Lisa, Lisa-
ReplyDeleteThis is the true definition of best friends: Buds who make each other laugh to the point of seepage. That's us!! :D
P.S.- I'll be damned if I'm ever wearing those pseudo-diapers either!! Or at least, I'd better be in a nursing home first. I've asked my children for a medium quality facility at minimum. Maybe we'll be roomies!!