I came out of the grocery store and looked up; the clouds were piled up in massive grey billows all around the horizon, but in the center the sky was clear, like the eye of a hurricane. I felt small, and safe.
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I had a doctor's appointment that I was nervous about, and I arrived 45 minutes early needing to pee rather desperately. As I reached out to open the bathroom door I saw a discreet note posted above the door handle, directing patients to check in with the front desk before peeing--presumably, in case the doctor wanted a urine sample. A wave of irritation swept over me (just whose bladder do you think this is, medical industrial complex?!) and I stomped into the stall. Sweet relief shortly followed.
As my brain came back online, I began to regret my rash act of pee resistance. I worried that I wouldn't be able to perform if they did, indeed, want a urine sample. Just how fast could I be ready to pee again, I wondered? Then I remembered that the problem I wanted to discuss with my doctor was frequent urination, and my bladder started to cackle. "Oh, you want to know if I can go from totally empty to extremely full in just thirty minutes, with no additional fluid intake? HOLD MY BEER." Reader, it all came out okay in the end. Today I revisited some history and it had so much less power over me than it used to.
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AuthorBitter Water
This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivatives 4.0 International License. Archives
June 2019
Categories© Francie Nevill and Every Sweet Thing, 2017.
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