L, M, N, O...

It's time.  I promised to share my embarassing bladder-issue stories and people have been asking me to tell ever since I mentioned this issue in my first post.  I just knew that everyone would find this topic SO funny; aren't we all just a little bit evil inside?!  Me included...ha ha ha  

Well, it all started shortly after my relapse began to get really unmanageable and I just could not control my bladder.  I literally had about 30 seconds of warning before I was doing the pee-pee dance and without much mobility in my legs, I constantly looked like a drunk person limping frantically for the washroom.  I also had to "go" approximately 30-40 times a day;  all times of day, morning, noon and night.  Needless to say, I was not getting much rest and I had to rebudget based on toilet paper for a couple of months there.  I now know what pregnant women feel like and ladies, I feel for you truly.
The first 'incident' happened about two weeks into my disability leave from work.  I was sick of lying around in my pajamas on the sofa not being able to leave my apartment so, I planned a brunch date with my friend and sister and made sure I picked a table close to the washroom so that my meal would not interfere with my cubicle-dates.  Everything went well; food was good, conversation witty and confidence in reentering the living world reestablished.  Speed ahead to the drive home (sister driving of course) and she asks if I'm up to stopping at the mall for a quick second.  Literally run in, run out.  I say "sure" because I'd just finished appeasing the bladder-gods at the restaurant and was sure that I'd be okay for another 10 minutes until arriving home.  Wrong.  I got into the mall entrance and suddenly, OH NO, I HAVE to go pee NOW.  Ahhhhhhh, fantastic, there is a washroom right there.  So,  my cane and I limp on over as fast as we can and..........."Out Of Order, Please Use Facilities in Mezanine".  ARE YOU F*&^ing kidding me?!!!!!!!!  Major issue!  So, I send my sister off in search of the nearest washroom and she's gone for a long time so, I'm starting to fear it's too far away and I'm not going to make it.  She finally comes back and says, "it's not too far, come with me".  I start off on my mission praying to the Kegal-gods now and...they don't listen.  With every limp I take on that cane, I begin to wet myself a little.  Limp, wet, limp, wet until I am limping along like a woman posessed and I can't hold it in anymore...no, not that...the tears.  Rivers of desperate tears in the middle of the biggest mall packed with people.  Rivers of urine making their way down my legs.  My sister at that point saw me crying and felt so unable to comfort me that she started balling too.  So, don't we look like a pair, both crying, only one wet and disabled but both getting STARED at of course.  We finally make it to the washroom and if I wasn't crying already, I'd be crying from relief at this point.  And what do I find - a huge line up.   So.................I wait.  And wait.  And wipe tears off my face.  And wait some more.  I finally get into a stall and just collapse on the toilet (not having to use it any more obviously!) and just wail my little heart out.  You'd think that a random woman or two would maybe knock and ask what's wrong but, let's face it, we're women.  It's totally not odd to see a female crying in the middle of a washroom, or anywhere really, on any given day.  You know what I mean girls.  So, to finish up this particuar incident, I cleaned myself up, washed myself off, emerged from my cubicle sanctuary after many minutes and we limped the hell out of there as fast as we could.  We got into the car, made a quick swing by the liquor store and then were home 10 minutes later after the first of the Incontinence Episodes.  After that day, I did not leave my house or pajamas (or bottle of wine) for 6 days.  I refused to answer my phone, return email or talk to anyone aside from my sister and mother.  After finally reaching out to two fellow MS-ers I received two WAY worse incontinence stories, a recommendation to get out and invest in some Poise pads and some hope.  I have a funnier story but, I'll save that for tomorrow.  So, people, put yourself in my shoes, thank god it wasn't you that day and laugh an evil laugh because now that it's over, it's pretty freaking funny.  I now know that I'm not the only one experiencing these problems and all you can do really is laugh...and strap on a Poise pad when the going gets tough.  And damp.