Embarrassing relatives. We all have them, right? In my family, that's me. Because seriously, as I sit here running through each 1st, 2nd, such-and-such removed cousin, aunt, and uncle on my Mom's side...then Dad's side...I can't think of anyone who embarrasses me. So since every family has one, it must be me. That leaves ms to be my token embarrassing relative.
What would be the most embarrassing thing to you if you were...oh I dunno...38 years old, confident, hard working, professionally respected, outgoing, friendly, and other self-proclaimed, positive adjectives of choice? Would it maybe involve a bladder? And its contents? Yep, that's at the top of my list.
Allow me tell you about my bladder, because I think it's time to really get to know me. The real me. Can we honestly say we know someone...I mean really know someone...if we know not the bladder of that person? The truth is, we cannot. And since this post is just going to be between you and I, and any random internet surfer who googles "bladder" and "embarrassing", which is scary in and of itself, I feel as if I can share. No. I feel as if I must.
I've come to realize that my bladder does not have the Word of God. Yes, that's a bold claim, but I'm not afraid to say it. The fruits of the Spirit are love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control. My bladder stopped loving me about a year ago. It is not joyful nor peaceful, kind nor good. It is faithful in the fact that it gets all dramatic-like when it's an absolute worst moment for me to be stuck in a stall. Ya know, like at the Joyce Meyer conference? Yeah. I spent about 20mins in just one trip, then had to go over and over again. Or how about when I was invited to accompany my grandmother in the ambulance during an emergency transport to the city hospital? "Do we have 2 seconds? I can't hold it." Sorry, Mommom. You know you're close to rock bottom when an entire ambulance crew is waiting outside for you. My bladder is not gentle, but rather brazen. And self-control? Okay, so I had an instance where that wasn't in check. Thus the title of the post. "Embarrassing" doesn't quite capture it. Whatever "embarrassing" is x10 is where I was at not long ago.
My own mother threatened me. We were to go to the hospital to visit my grandmother and I had to use the bathroom before we left, but nothing was working. After about 25mins, she yelled, "you got 5mins and then I'm puttin' a diaper on you!" To which I said, "thanks a lot, Mom! Make fun of the girl with ms! Nice!" To which she said, "shut up and pee already! We're going to hit traffic!" My grandmother understands me, thankfully. Though she suggested I get a Foley catheter because, and I quote, "these things are fabulous!" Ugh...
Also embarrassing? Busting out in uncontrollable laughter at inappropriate times. That happened just today, as a matter of fact. Serious work meeting, someone said something that should not have been laughed at, and I scream laughed, complete with tears streaming down my face. I would have excused myself from the meeting to get my laughter out in a more discreet location, but when I laugh that hard? My bladder says, "move and I let go!" It's got a hair trigger attitude. So I did what any professional would do. Sat there, laughing hysterically, crossing legs with 8 ton force, praying to God that I wouldn't laugh AND pee. What a staff meeting that would be!
Also embarrassing? Dropping my bottle of water (thank you, spontaneous hand tremor), nearly falling while trying to pick it up from the floor, then accidentally kicking it with my foot. And people see the whole thing. I should be wrapped in Charmin.
Yet another example? Walking from the kitchen to my computer desk, banging into everything in my path, making one heckuva noise, causing my son to break into hysterical laughter. I asked what was so funny, ya know, once I got myself safely seated and all? "I mean, how many things can you bump into, Mommy? Ha ha ha!"
Embarrassing. Inconvenient. Energy sucking, vision tricking, memory fogging, word stealing, moderately painful...ms. That's how I could look at it. And yes, it's all those things and more. But it's also kind of humorous, certain times more than others. There are two trains of thought here. I can choose to be the pigeon or the statue. Though I feel a whole lot like the statue many days, I will soar like the pigeon. And I'll do my best to laugh at the orange tag on my leg that bears the initials "ms".