It’s not my age. I had a hysterectomy and my doctor neatly tucked my bladder back up where God put it years ago. It’s my MS. Just another fun little obsticle course that the MS Gods have blessed me with. It’s a daily battle and sometimes it’s so damn funny, it makes me pee….

You have no idea how many times I will be walking through the store with my girls and they will say something that strikes me funny. They don’t even know what I’m chuckling about. So naturally they ask me why I’m laughing… My response is usually… Oh, for crying out loud, don’t look at me! Don’t talk to me! I’m going to pee! I walk along, something tickles me, and I start laughing. Instantly I get the sensation that I am about to tinkle. I cross my legs and lean forward. It’s hard to walk like this. Which is funny! They laugh and ask what my problem is now. Shit, now I can’t walk or talk, I don’t dare move. I stand there, kind of stork like, waiting to ger myself under control. STOP TALKING!!!  Just give me a minute. I take a step, it seems like I have things wrapped nicely up now…SHUT UP!! Oh my goodness, just let me make it to the car.

Another nice little bonus I have, is known as an MS hug. Hugs are nice. Using this word to describe what I experience is a sin. If you say it, you have to Hail Mary or get baptized again or maybe even kill a goat. I don’t know exactly, but I know it’s pretty bad.

Picture a Charley horse that starts just below your boobs. Well, where your boobs used to sit before gravity reared it’s ugly head. Anyway, at your bra line down to your waist. All the way around your middle. From the left side of your belly button to the right side of your belly button. Walking along, all of a sudden you are squeezed, as if Andre the Giant is using a scissor hold on you. It takes your breath and halts you in your tracks. Tears come to your eyes and you hold on to what air you have sucked in, because you don’t dare move. Not much. Movement is your enemy right now. So you stand still and try to breathe without actually expanding your lungs much, that will only compound the issue. That isn’t a ‘hug’, man. A hug is nice. A hug is warm. You hug people you love. This IS NOT a hug. This is something we could utilize in a torture chamber.

Ok, two insane things that I battle quite often. Then the inevitable happens. I get sick. I have pneumonia. Yes. Just a little bit. Just a ‘shadow’ as my cutie patootie Dr. Treece explained to me today.

So, I have been coughing. A lot. Coughing until some smart ass says ‘Hey, was that a piece of your lung’? Original. I’ve had a dry cough then a wet cough. A barking cough, a horrible, hold on to something and cough until you see little stars in front of your eyes. Then the battle really begins.

When I cough I pee, so I have to do that stork-leg thing so I don’t. Coughing also makes your thing, the thing that isn’t a hug, wail in agony. I didn’t realize how many muscles you used to cough. Every one. Every muscle in your torso. So I brace myself, trying to soften the blow to my middle and I figure out I can’t do both. I can’t squeeze my hoo ha and try to tighten my middle muscles at the same time. I don’t know if you can. You should try now……

If you can, more power to you. I cannot. So a decision has to be made. If I’m lucky and I’m at home, I just go to the bathroom. Problem solved. If I’m in public, it’s mortifying. People don’t like coughers anyway. They give you that wrinkled-nose look and if you don’t have any hand sanitizer that you can whip out super freaking quick, they are trying to get the CDC on the phone. When you cough like a TB patient and then do the stork-leg thing not to pee and hold on to your middle with one arm and cover your mouth with the other hand. Well, when you’re done, just flip them the bird. You’ve lost anyway. You might as well get some satisfaction. I’m just staying in the house until I’m well.

This was pretty much my day today. It’s laugh or cry. I’d rather laugh. Laughter is the best medicine, isn’t it? Laughing makes me pee though. I figure that’s a small price to pay to stay somewhat sane. Please. For the love of all that is good and holy. Don’t. Say. Depends. Cut me some slack, huh? It’s been a long day.