That One Time Where I Talked a Lot About Peeing

If you've heard one thing about the healthcare in the US, you've probably heard the most important thing: healthcare here sucks. A month ago, I went in for my yearly pap--also, known as the most cold and boring dildo session ever-- and because of my insurance...I had to go back to get an actual physical. Even though the difference between the pap and physical is about...oh checking my temperature and listening to my heart, I have to make the drive twice and potentially pay two co-pays--waiting for the bill to magically appear in the mail. Hurray!

I have two big fears about going to the doctor. The first is that they will want me to pee in a cup and I won't have had enough to drink to even think about such a task. And the second fear is that they will want to draw blood and…again, I won't have had enough to drink to get blood out of my teeny tiny veins. The way I combat this fear is to drink at least 30 oz. of water before I go in to the doc's and to not go to the bathroom all morning long; because if I don't plan to do this, I will inevitably be asked to do both.

So this morning I got up and started drinking...and drinking...and...I went to the office and naturally they didn't ask me to do either at first. They got my weight and for once didn't tell me I was fat. Then they told me that I am 5’ 6”. Now, I'm not the tallest person in the world, but I am definitely not 5' 6”! My response was akin to, "Are you sure about that? I did not shrink that much in a month! I'm typically 5’ 7” on a bad day" So the nurse measures again and sure enough, I turned out to be 5’ 9.5”!? My conclusion: the nurse has no clue how to measure height...Pretty sure I'm the average of 5’ 6” & 5’ 9.5”. But there was no convincing her that she was wrong a second time!

After that embarrassing fiasco, they put me in a waiting room and left me there for at least 30 minutes. I hadn't asked to use the bathroom when I walked in because it wasn't an issue at the time. I was still happily gulping my water... And then the water hit. I never feel like it's kosher to run around the doc's office and try to find the bathroom because the doc will magically appear at the exact moment I step away. So I tried to wait it out.

I tried to hold it as long as I could, I really did. I stared at all four tiny walls with the typical doctor torture devices, re-adjusted in the most uncomfortable waiting room chair possible and stared at the "bed" thinking that would probably be even more uncomfortable than my chair. Dammit! Why didn't they ask me to give them the damn sample at the beginning? They used to always ask at the beginning!

I started to stare at the sink in the corner.

"If only I had a penis... I could pee in the sink and the doc would be none the wiser, unless of course she walked in while I was giving it a final shake. But still, I'm pretty confident that I could have played it off somehow. That sink is way too small and it'd be way too obvious if I tried anything like that."

I finally gave up and snuck out. Ran around the corner and debated for about two seconds, "Do I just leave them the freaking sample and pretend like I got asked to do it? Nah, that might be weird. 'Here's some pee! I made it just for you and I hope you like it!!'" So I just went and it was the most glorious moment of my whole day. But it didn't last long.

I opened the bathroom door, annoyed that I had to sneak around and more annoyed that my doctor was waiting outside my room.

After only a few minutes she asks, "Did you leave a sample?"

"Ummm, no. I got stuck waiting for over 30 minutes. What happened to the whole, always asking people to do that...at the beginning? My bladder cannot take that kinda pressure" She ignored me. And then about 5 minutes into our conversation, she decided she really wanted that sample. "Are you sure you can't pee? You could come back later, but why don't you try before you go..."

Really?

Really??

I drank all that water, wasted it and you want to both draw blood and expect me to perform on command after finally getting to go to the bathroom!

Not cool.

But I still had half a glass of water, so I said I'd give it a try. After acquiescing that "Perhaps, I could try again..." I was escorted to the blood taker person's station and sat down, trying to chug the last few gulps of water in my glass and convincing myself that I could go again before leaving. The person taking care of this immediately started thanking Jesus. It was weird.

"You've got tiny veins like me! Thank you Jesus, be good to us and give us blood!" She starts trying to find the veins again; my arm feels like it's going to fall off from the rubber band she used to constrict my blood flow. "Jesus, you're going to give us the blood. I can feel it!" I laughed awkwardly in an attempt to not offend her, but I think I only encouraged it. She stuck me with the needle several times and then came out with a loud, "Jesus, oh you are good to us! Sweet Jesus!" She pulled two vials out of me and let me know that we wouldn't ask Jesus for anymore, he'd done enough today.

I guess my veins are named "Jesus"?

The doctor came back and the blood taker person says, "Oh, we got the blood already and she's going to go pee for you now."

No pressure. Am I right?

So my worst fears about the doctor visit came true. My whole appointment revolved around everyone cheering me, Jesus, and my bladder on. Thankfully, I made short work of the job and ran out of there as quickly as possible. Pretty sure I left my last shred of dignity in that little sterile yellow cup. I just wish I'd written on the side of the cup, "I made it just for you and I hope you really like it!"