We seem to have a troubling pattern developing in this family.
For the last two years, at the same time, we have gotten quite ill. And by “we” I mean me and someone else, usually but not limited to Thing 2.
Last year at this time she and I had whooping cough (oh yes, we did.) This year, Thing 1 and I (so far) have pneumonia. Next year I am hoping for something a little lighter, like say The Sniffles, but at the rate we are going it could very well be the Black Plague, so you may want to give us a wide berth next March.
These illnesses have brought a side effect that is unique to me. You see, I have children. 3. Two of whom I acquired through the traditional means of gestating and birthing them out. And while I did not birth them through traditional means (they were c-sections), the damage was done nevertheless.
And both of these illnesses involve a lot of coughing. I am certain that you could have guessed that about whooping cough, but were you aware that when you have pneumonia your body tries to expel your lungs out through your mouth with significant force? No? Well now you are. And as someone who has carried a couple of babies around for months who felt it necessary to rest their tiny little asses on my bladder there is one side effect that gets me, and only me, every time.
I cough and then–
I pee my pants.
Look, whooping cough lasts for 12 weeks. 12 FREAKING weeks. I am so practiced up on coughing and peeing my pants that you would think that I would have some sort of fool proof avoidance plan in place, but no. Because there isn’t one. There is nothing that can be done to stop it. Oh sure, I make something like 42 trips to the bathroom every day in an attempt to keep my bladder empty, but seriously, that’s a losing battle when the mantra of every single Dr. you see is “be sure to stay hydrated.”
I try to hold it, but imagine that you are coughing so hard you are dry heaving,
sometimes vomiting,
that you cannot get in a single gasping breath to steady yourself,
that your head feels like it is about to explode,
and all of a sudden not peeing your pants takes a backseat to not dying.
I know there are ways this could be, *ahem*, delicately handled, like pads or pantyliners or what the hell ever that thing is they advertise with the slogan “Get in my Pants SAM” but I steadfastly REFUSE to give up and start wearing diapers. FFS, I’m 48 years old and that is the slippery slope straight to hell. And honestly, the last thing I need to complete my misery is a yeast infection. Just sayin.
So instead I cough, I pee and then I change my clothes. That’s is it. All day, every day until I am better.
Cough, pee, change
Cough, pee, change
Cough, pee, change
Laundry
Cough, pee, change
Thing 2 finds this endlessly amusing. However, she wants to have five kids. I can bide my time….paybacks are a bitch.