I have differing levels of pee urgency. At the top of the scale is a full on, doing-the-pee-dance – which is rocking while I’m sitting in my wheelchair – to distract my brain from focusing on how frantic my bladder is to be emptied. UTIs are a bitch!
Sometimes I feel like a little kid who’s having so much fun that I don’t realize I need to pee until it’s deathly urgent. The activity that’s the most distracting for me is writing. I get lost in an idea or a sentence, until my bladder slaps me across the face and yells “I need some attention NOW!” That’s a Desperation Pee.
Not all pees are created equal. The next level down is more of an awareness that in about 10 or 15 minutes I’m going to be desperate to pee, so I should do it now and get it out of the way. This level is the hardest one to achieve because I’m human, and I like to push the envelope and my bladder as long as possible. That’s a Mindful Pee, something to aspire to.
Last but certainly not least is the Proactive Pee. “I will pee now because I’m going out and should empty my bladder first.” Or, “I really don’t need to pee right now, but I should because I might get a UTI if I wait until bedtime.” PP’s can be the most problematic. Because of MS my bladder has some quirks that can make it a challenge to pee when my bladder is less than, let’s say, half full. Sometimes I need to convince it by pushing on it with the heel of my hand.
When it comes to me and my body, peeing is not a simple matter. It involves two workers, a Hoyer lift, a sling, a bed and a commode. It takes a village for Joy to pee. My most important PP of the day comes between 430 and 5:30 PM. It’s also an extremely busy time of day when the workers are helping residents get to and from the dining room for supper. I always feel considerable pressure to pee, to justify the effort they’ve gone to on my behalf. Unfortunately, sometimes I come up dry. Literally. Not a drop. When I see them reach into the cupboard to grab gloves to wipe me, I have to confess, sheepishly, there’s nothing to wipe. I hate disappointing them. What if they stop believing me?