Pee panic

So, I was supposed to have than ultrasound today to determine if the pain in my gut was mere mittelschmerz or an EXPLODED CYST (I shit you not, check out the comments section for the next to last post). Ultrasound technology is still so far back in the freaking Dark Ages, that one is still required to fill one's bladder with 32 ounces of water an hour before the exam is scheduled to begin. I have had pelvic ultrasounds before, and though it was uncomfortable, I managed to complete the task without leaving a puddle anywhere.

But that was before I had 2 children and gained a shitload of weight. I was having trouble just getting to the car, and by the time I reached the radiology center I was feeling very grateful that I had thought to bring a spare pair of pants. Nevertheless, I continued to hold it through tightly clenched thighs and I waddled into the office and signed in.

I had hoped that when I got to the point of just sitting in the waiting room that the urgency would abate somewhat, but it just got worse and worse. The place was clearly a mill, one of those medical offices designed to take those who have the worst insurance. Large, old, sweaty people surrounded me and the walls echoed from all the people waiting, even though it was early in the day.

And then...I kinda lost it. My heart started pounding and I got all sweaty and shaky, and I just knew - knew - that I was going to piss all over myself and that I had to do whatever was necessary to prevent that from happening. I got up and ran/waddled out the exit, sure that there would be a restroom in the lobby. But there wasn't! I was too addle-brained from urine-poisoning to think, and I ran back into the office to look for something there, then ran out again when nothing was immediately apparent. Then, I ran/waddled back out to my car, figuring if I have to pee myself I can at least do it in the privacy of my own car.

I decided to start driving to the nearest place that looked like it would have an available toilet and ended up at Target. I have never been so grateful for a public bathroom in all my life. The bathroom at the Target on Crain Highway in Glen Burnie, Maryland is now a holy place. I plan to leave offerings there every week in remembrance of how it saved my life today.

Needless to say, there was no ultrasound. I didn't bother going back or calling to explain, and frankly they were probably relieved to have one less person to deal with. I may not know whether I had a blow-out on my ovary, but I still have on the same pants I put on when I got up this morning, and that's all that really matters.