We’re all friends here, right? I’m just going to go ahead and lay it all out for you. Due to a cough that won’t just won’t. facking. go. away, I’ve realized that I’m incontinent. Since Amy (Amalah) (whom I adore and would secretly like to marry if it weren’t for those pesky polygamy and same-sex marriage restrictions) wrote about peeing her pants, like totally PEEING HER PANTS, I feel like I can now tell you of my plight.
Her post made me feel validated. I pee MY pants, too!
Her post was about when she peed her pants when she was over 30 weeks pregnant, which alone is reason enough to pee your pants. So MY peeing my pants when I’m not even 1 day pregnant, just 11 months post birth, is pitiful. And gross.
It all started a few weeks ago when I came down with a cold, courtesy of my germ schmeared children. The cold started out in my head, then it moved to my chest, thus beginning bouts with nearly gag-inducing coughing fits. Each time I cough, I pee. Cough, pee. Cough some more, pee some more. Cough, cough, cough, pee, pee, pee. Sometimes it’s just a little pee, other times it’s not just a little pee.
I try, oh do I try, to keep from peeing myself. Whenever I start to cough, I contort my body and legs in such a way to hopefully make up for the obvious lack of musculature DOWN THERE. Even my contortionist attempts aren’t working, though. If I know I’m going to cough, I stand up so that I don’t pee all over the couch or where ever I happen to have planted my ass. In the past several weeks, I’ve changed my underwear more times each day than I change Carson’s diapers.
Am I really telling you all this?
I’ve consulted my trusty family physician (Google again) and she tells me that I should be doing kegels or that I have a bladder infection and will probably die a horribly painful, drawn-out death characterized by wiry nipple hair, tumor-like zits, and impotence at the hands of evil bladder bacteria.* So DAMN, either way I’m screwed. A painful death or more exercise, I don’t know which is worse. It’s not as if I even have time to fit more exercise into my already very full days. I mean, seriously, I have two very huge thighs and a pillowy gut that need prompt attention and can’t fit any exercise into my day. Adding kegels to my “workout routine” falls in the “unlikely as hell” category.
I did really tell you this. **head shakes in disbelief** Validation, people. Validation.