So I was thinking this morning how few embarrassing moments I have. I don’t embarrass easy because of my dad. I don’t get too nervous or anxious about what other people are thinking about me. I don’t even have a sense of shame. (And I’m Catholic! Weird!) But then I had a moment today, and because I love you and this may explain why I won’t read many posts today, I shall divulge it.
A couple of weeks ago, I came down with a UTI. I haven’t had one in years. My body isn’t a temple; it’s a tank. So when I started coming down with it (and I see a bunch of you nodding), I thought I’ll piss it out. No problem. (I see a few of you shaking your heads and some actually laughing.) By six o’clock that night, I was trying not to pee every fifteen minutes and not to cry as I went because I had to put on a brave face for the company who followed me in to the bathroom. Hi, Tornado S. The next morning I had seen the light, and it was drugs. And they were good.
But since I had little twinges of discomfort, which I marked down to psychosomatic (“addict, insane”). Until today. Then I knew for sure that it was a UTI. I called my mom first, who told me to hang up and call my doctor. (Ok, I’m a little slow.)
Can I come in? Sure. This morning, in an hour? Sure, why not? Because I have two little ones to get out of the car, and I had to change out of my stay-home-and-clean-and-paint clothes.
So after a mad dash of dressing, making juice, getting snacks, getting, toys, making everyone pee, and putting on socks and shoes, we actually were close to leaving on time. Then we hit every light red, and I started getting aggravated. Then we had to park in one of the last three parking spots in the parking structure at the furthest end. I was fully annoyed. Then I got out of the car and realized I needed to pee NOW. Now I was just pissed. (Pun intended.)
I scanned the huge parking structures for some bathrooms because I believe in karma. They don’t put bathrooms in parking structures. I gazed across to the medical building that was kiddy-corner to the parking structure. I looked back into the car where the boys, the one who would walk slow and the heavy one who would be carried, sat buckled next to the heavy diaper bag. Then I peered over the back seat to the training potty in the back of the SUV. I swear it glowed with heavenly light and a choir of angels sang. I stood there like Susan Sarandon in Rocky Horror Picture Show, debating with my eyes darting back and forth, except no one was wondering if I was going to screw Rocky or the audience. My options were pee my pants or pee in the training potty. I chose the potty.
As I flipped open the back, two cars came. I wondered why I parked in the middle of the last three spots. I slammed the back door and jumped in the back seat with the boys. The truck pulling into the spot on my passenger side waited a few moments to see if I needed the room to get my children out. Normally I would greatly appreciate the gesture; today I was annoyed. He parked and walked away. On the driver’s side was a cute young woman in a mini-van who smiled at Tornado S when he honked the horn. She was finishing up her phone call, and I didn’t have the time. After releasing the boys from their seats, making sure they were fine, I hurtled over the seats into the back.
Wishing for darker tint on the windows, hoping that I wasn’t causing psychological harm to the boys, I quickly used to training potty. Ah. Wait. Toilet paper! The diaper bag was in easy reach of the driver’s seat. But before I could start negotiating with Tornado E over getting the wipes, I remembered I had a Kleenex box somewhere. I located it and used a piece. I wiggled back into my pants and hurtled over the seats. I got out of the car, fixed my clothes and hair, and removed the boys. The young woman got out of her van the moment I passed with the boys, and she smiled and waved to the boys. I smiled back, wondering if urine would stink up the car in this weather.
So to make a long story short (too late), they diagnosed me with a UTI and gave me some wicked meds to wipe out any infection like an act of God. The boys did dump the diaper bag out in front of the doctor spilling six months worth of crumbs, hard fruit snacks, popcorn kernels and what looked like to be banana bread crumbs (but that can’t be right, can it?) on to the carpeted floor. Do I need a lecture on sanitation? At least Tornado E and Tornado S didn’t vacuum it with their mouths. Now I have to go take a nap or my mom will scold me later. (Stupid UTI. Making me miss all my favorite blogs. I’ll get you . . . )