Thursday, August 2, 2012

August 2: Peeing On Demand

OK, this may sound like a disgusting subject for a post, but I have to write about it.

First, a confession:  I have a shy bladder.  If someone tells me I have to provide a urine specimen for some kind of medical test, I have to prepare for it.  It's almost like cramming for a final exam.  A couple of hours before I have to perform, I start drinking water.  Tons of water.  I drink and drink and drink until I feel like I'm going to split open.  Usually, when I hit the lab or doctor's office, I can't even sit down.  I stand and shift from foot to foot.

I can't just pee on demand.  If a terrorist came up to me right now, put the barrel of a gun in my face, and said, "You need to pee in this cup for me," I would have to take the bullet.  My bladder gets stage fright, and terrorists aren't very patient people.

Today, my manager was the terrorist.  The new owner of the health care system I work for is requiring every employee to submit urine for a drug test.  I knew this.  I was preparing myself for the inevitability.  But when my manager came into the lunch room and said, "Go down to occupational medicine and do your urine test," I felt my bladder immediately shrivel up.

I started pounding water on my way to the appointment.  I had five cups of water at the drinking fountain down the hall.  When I got to occupational medicine, I pounded five more cups of water.

I'm not going to go into any more detail.  The nurse called my name, and I felt dry.  Really dry.  Just-finished-running-a-half-marathon dry.  I told her I had a bashful bladder, and she handed me a cup and told me to try.

Well, I was successful.  Urine accomplished.

Now, Saint Marty's bladder needs to relax for a couple of days.  Maybe take a Xanax.  Peeing is stressful work.

I am NOT this guy!

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