Four years later, his sister followed in his footsteps and spent the last six months locked in her womb kicking my bladder for fun.
As a result I now have the ability to fill the Grand Canyon after drinking one bottle of water! While some women could read a magazine waiting for the flow to stop, I could read War & Peace.Welcome to menopause! On top of night sweats and hot flashes, I now leak when I sneeze.
From research, I found out that light bladder leakage affects about 40 million women. That means you can expect a third of your friends to know what you’re going through.I have often drove from St. John's to Gander and had to pull over on the side of the Trans Canada Highway to run off in the woods to pee! I have this terrible fear that I am going to be squat down 100 feet from the pavement relieving myself when I look up and find a dead body. Then I would have to call the police to report what I found. Their first question will be "What where you doing in this area?" "Oh officer, I was relieving myself." Not a chance, I would confess to the murder first.
A friend of mine is a police officer. She told me one cold winters night she responded to an accident on the highway in the middle of nowhere. Five of her male counterparts showed up to help. She was the only female. They spent hours on the road clearing the scene. Then the urge to pee hit with a vengeance. While her male counterparts could turn their backs to the road and write their names in the snow, she would have to find a discrete location to squat down before her bladder burst. Every time she tried to sneak away someone would ask "Where are you going?" While standing in the cold night taking a statement from a male driver the urge to pee took over. She could feel a small stream beginning to leak down her leg until she could no longer hold it in and the dam broke. To say she "filled her boots" was an understatement. She thought that her police parka would hide the deed. That was until the hot pee hit the cold night and steam begin to rise from her pants!Another friend told me that she was on a ski trip to Marble Mountain when her bladder took her to new heights. She had taken the lift to the top of OMJ, one of the highest slopes, when the urge to pee became unbearable. She looked around for a facility but couldn't find one. She said there was no way she could ski to the bottom of the mountain while trying to hold her pee so she decided to squat down behind a bush. She laid her ski poles down to the side and pulled her pants down around her knees. Hearing other skiers fly by her, she quickly relieved herself and tried to shimmy her ski pants back up. What she didn't account for was how slippery her skis were. While trying to pull her pants up she began to slide. She grabbed for the ski poles but couldn't reach them and the movement only propelled her more. Before she knew it she had skied out of the bush and onto the ski track. With her pants still around her knees and in her squat down peeing position she was now barreling down OMJ to the laughter and shock of her fellow skiers. The squat down position made her go faster. Without ski poles and unable to change leg positions because of her ski pants, she couldn't stop herself. So rather than end up at the bottom of the mountain with her pants around her knees, she decided to throw herself. When she did, one ski flipped over the other and she dislocated her knee. Now dying of embarrassment and in extreme pain she tried to pull the pants up but people quickly formed a circle around her trying to help. Within minutes the First Aid team were on the slope with a ski doo, got her off the mountain and transported to the hospital. On the plane back to St. John's, the passenger next to her pointed at her leg in a brace and asked, "Skiing accident?" "Yes" She replied. Then he added, "Did you hear about the girl skiing down OMJ with her pants around her knees?" "No!" she answered and put her headphones on keeping her peeing, I mean skiing accident to herself.
One night, while dining out with my husband, the urge hit me like a tractor trailer and I dashed off to the ladies room. The waitress told me the bathrooms were located at the top of the stairs to the right. By the time I found it in the dimly lit hallway there was only one stall and lucky for me it was empty. Of course bathroom stalls are only big enough for the stick figures on the door. It's a lesson in gymnastics to hoist a dress and tear down the control top panty hose while trying not to spill a drop. Then someone else came in and within seconds I could hear them urinating. I thought, "They're not using the sink are they?" I finished and pulled up my control top pantyhose. Exiting the stall I locked eyes with a man peeing in a urinal on the wall. Horrified I said, "This is the ladies room!" and stomped out. I got back to my table and told my husband. He pointed out, "He was using the urinal? You were in the men's room!" Luckily we were finished eating and my husband had paid the bill so I could run out without seeing this poor man again.So in addition to menopause, one in three of us can now expect a visit from Kirstie Alley, the Poise Fairy, every time we sneeze.
If it's such a common thing, why hasn't the world adapted to us? Why don't change rooms in ladies stores have a bathroom located in the same area? How come every time I go to a concert there is a huge line up to the ladies room but no line up to the men's room? We need more stalls! Why aren't stalls bigger? I can't fit my purse in most stalls!I know we all have our "pee stories" and I would love to exploit them in my blog. So share, I know I am not the only one who has to stop and cross my legs to sneeze.