I had a Code Yellow event just now (my rating system, not theirs). That means I peed my pants. But the world didn’t come to an end. As humiliating as it is, I’ve learned that no matter how bad something is, it can almost always be worse. In this case, it could’ve happened in public when I was out somewhere (pre-COVID). Or, it could’ve been a Code Brown.
Fortunately, a complete bladder failure like this doesn’t happen very often, maybe once or twice a year. It’s often caused by an impending UTI, or when I’m about to come down with something. My bladder is usually pretty forgiving, but every now and then it likes to remind me who’s really in charge. Bottom line, it always gets the last word.
Another good thing. At least I don’t have to clean it up myself, because it’s such a hassle. After they get me off my power chair, the $600 custom seat cushion must be taken apart. They rinse, wipe down and dry what they can. The cover and my clothing are sent to housekeeping to be sanitized. Until the whole unit can be completely reassembled – sometimes it can take an entire day – I have to use one of my old cushions, which I’m not used to anymore. I put up with numb bum and sore hips until the new one comes back.
The PSW said as she was cleaning up the puddle, “Don’t you think it would’ve been better to have taken care of this sooner?” You would think that I’d be used to people saying insensitive things by now, and I’m definitely a lot tougher. But this one stung a little and pissed me off, maybe because it’s the end of the day on Friday, after yet another long week when every day felt like Monday. I’ve started calling this the COVID Effect. Anyways, after I told her I didn’t need a lecture, I reminded her that MS can do funky things to your bladder and that mine had been acting strangely all day. Her comment made me feel a little judged. I felt the need to explain that when I tried to pee at 430 I couldn’t, and then my food arrived at 530, and then at 6 PM the other PSW took her supper break, so that this really was the earliest I could’ve called. It was also inappropriate for her to say that. I doubt she would say something like that to another resident. Sometimes the PSWs “forget” that I’m a resident because we’re more like friends. I have more in common with them than other residents. I suppose their expectations of me are different. It’s a complicated relationship.
Recently, I read Brene Brown’s book Daring Greatly. She talks about the idea of shame resilience, the ability to pick yourself up after something embarrassing happens, like making a very public mistake at work, or being fired, etc. In the past, when a Code Yellow happened I took it hard. Acute embarrassment. Wanting to disappear, crawl under a rock. And not speaking. A steely, rock-hard silence for the rest of the day that was so heavy to maintain it drained me. Now I get over it pretty quickly and forgive myself for being human. I can even crack a joke. “Thank God it wasn’t a Code Brown,” makes everyone laugh.
I bet when Dr. Brown was thinking up examples of embarrassing failures, it never occurred to her to include such a humble thing as peeing your pants. It’s an embarrassing problem we rarely talk about in public, unless you’re a foolish newbie blogger.
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