A Memoir on Urine

My day started at about 2 am. It started with dreams – I’ve been having dreams lately that are getting more and more realistic – they seem like reality – and so when I wake up I am very confused about what is real and what is not real. This reality was a simple one. Picture Day was today, and Edith’s jeans were still in the washer and needed to be moved into the dryer. So I awoke, transferred the laundry, put the dog outside because she was whining, turned off a couple of lights (always a thing here), and then went back to sleep. Only to awaken to have to pee moments later. As I begrudgingly awoke I was proud of myself that the clothes were already transferred, and then slowly I started to doubt if that was true or not true. I made my way to the laundry room, noting the dog was in her cage. I transferred the clothes. Hoping this time it was for real, and fell back into bed. Oddly discombobulated.

At 3 am Edith woke up. Edith never wakes up. She told me she had woken up at 2 am and had been awake ever since, which I knew was not true. I told her to go back to sleep. She had to pee. I said then pee and go back to sleep. I fell back asleep. Time danced in and out of consciousness, me trying to sleep, and Edith seemingly peeing every 15 to 30 minutes, and singing in between. At 4:28 am I told her to get out of there and just go watch TV and leave me alone. I knew she had a UTI. I could not miss work the next day, but what else was I to do? My appointment setter was going to be completely distraught – we are slammed. I tried to sleep, but it was rough, with the TV blaring, the dog whining, and my thoughts swirling.

6 am came. 6:10 am came. 6:20 am came. Edith is singing at this point, happy as a lark. I mention she’s sick, but that it is also Picture Day. She made it clear she had no intention of missing Picture Day. We had a follow up appointment today anyway from her UTI two weeks ago, so I had assurance that she’d be medically taken care of. We showered, packed for the day, and got on it. I told her I’d pick her up at 10:30 from school. I had 3 appointments to run before then so I hit the road running.

My first appointment, I met the couple, connected with them on a personal level, gave them a sales folder, got on the roof, measured it, assessed the damage, climbed back down, and then proceeded to give them my analysis and part of my presentation. All the while with my right foot firmly imbedded in a fire ant pile. The climbed all up my leg and in my shoe before blowing the universal whistle that fire ants have to “CHOMP! NOW” I peeled off my sock and my shoe and threw them in the driveway and finished my presentation like My Little Dumpling My Son John. Fortunately, it’s Texas, and everyone here knows about fire ants, and my customers were completely nonplussed. And I’m also not overly allergic to fire ants, after the initial sting.

After my second appointment, I forgot to tie my ladder in. I’ve been in the roofing industry for 10+ years and I have never, ever, ever forgotten to tie my ladder in.  As I was confidently driving down San Antonio Street, I heard a loud crash, looked in my rear view, and noticed my ladder wasn’t there. My heart sank. But fortunately for me, there was hardly anyone out. One truck gently drove around my ladder in the middle of the street. Two construction guys in hard hats kind of smirked. And me? I didn’t even blush. Just picked it up like this was everyday business, strapped it back in, and drove off with a wave, but shaken that I’d forgotten.

Fortunately, my third appointment went pretty quickly, even though it was a double pull (I had to use two ladders to get to the top of the house – you carry a second ladder up the first ladder, plant it, pray to Jesus, and climb to the second story). I got to Edith’s school at 10:20, a full 40 minutes before her doctor’s appointment, which was 20-25 away. Plenty of time.

They cannot find my kid. I’m not kidding. And this is the 2^nd time I’ve had this happen in a week, but this time, we had a deadline. I’m in the lobby for 5 minutes. She must be in Music. 10 minutes. I think she’s outside. 15 minutes. At this point I say out loud to no one in particular (meaning the other lady working in the office that is not trying to find my kid), “We have a doctor’s appointment at 11:00 in San Marcos.” Do you know what she says to me????? “Wow, you are cutting it close!” Sometimes it is good that I get so dumbfounded that I can only hear my reaction in my own brain and it doesn’t completely spill out of my mouth. But I did say, “Well, I wasn’t cutting it close when I came in here, but we are now.” Apparently, I didn’t say it loud enough, because she didn’t hear me, apparently. 20 minutes later – they found my kid. Now it’s 10:40; we’re late.

When I’m late, my armpits start stinging.  My forehead starts sweating. My heart starts pounding out of my chest. I cannot handle it. I am not OCD, but I might be OCD in this circumstance. Very European in this regard. I call the doctor’s office, tell them the school lost my child, and we are on our way. The inform me if we are more than 15 minutes late we have to reschedule. We cannot reschedule. It’s Friday, and my child has a UTI. I tell Edith to start slamming water, because she is going to have to pee in a cup. She’s been peeing all day though, so I’m not overly sweating it.

We get there, we make it, we check in. They take us back and we go through everything, and then finally they bring us The Cup.  We did this just two weeks ago with this UTI, so we know what we are doing. My job is to catch. As Edith is sitting on the toilet, and I have the cup, and my job function is to catch her urine because she’s not sure she can, I have a great moment of humility. I own a company, I am an expert in my field, I am smart and capable and pretty even, and here I am, hovering over a toilet, catching urine. And while she pees often, she pees also little because of the infection. She got out 12 drops and I caught maybe 4. I could obviously improve in this department of my new-found humility.

But the nurse says it’s enough! I feel elated for a bit. But come to find out, it’s only enough to tell that she yes, has a UTI. It’s not enough for a culture to send to the lab. So we need more. And the girl that’s been peeing for 9 hours straight amazingly dries up, despite drinking Dixie Cup after Dixie Cup of water. We go through one more Session of Humiliation that yields 4 drops out of 12.

We are there two hours. I’ve missed two more appointments. At one point I lay on the tile floor in the bathroom, staring up to Heaven, despairing over my day. This is Friday. Friday is supposed to be great. Edith asks if I’m mad at her, because she can see I’m stressed to the max. No, I’m not mad at you. This isn’t your fault. “Is it my fault I got a UTI?” No, it’s not your fault. I’m sorry I’m so stressed out. It’s nothing you can control.

I tell her about the time I accidentally dropped the collection cup into the toilet and failed the test and had to hang out for two hours until I could pee again or I would not get the job I was interviewing for.

Finally, they come in and say, sorry, this is over. It’s our lunch time. It was my lunchtime two hours ago!!!!! I beg Edith to please pee in the cup, but she very assuredly assures all of us that the reservoir is dry. The doctor proceeds to tell me I’m going to have to collect a sample and return it their office within 10-15 minutes of taking it, but mind you, they are closed for the next hour for lunch, and we live 20-25 minutes away. My day is over. I agree. I have no choice. I have instructions to immediately refrigerate the sample, and then when I am ready or whomever is ready to drive it to San Marcos, to pack it in ice.

I often feel like I overstep my bounds with my employees between business and my personal life (like picking her up from school when I’m stuck somewhere). Driving a urine sample packed on ice to the next town really seems way further across the line than something like picking up my dry cleaning, which I have never ever done. But we are just skipping dry cleaning and going straight to urine samples!

We leave, and go through the drive through at Chick Fil A. I’m dying starving. I probably have not had a soda in 6 weeks, but when I realize they have fountain Cherry Coke, I decide I deserve it. I also tell Edith she can have ANYTHING to drink so long as she drinks it. And for the first time ever, I pushed her to fill up on her drink before eating her food. I need this girl to pee! While in the drive-thru the doctor calls and says we can take the specimen directly to the lab in our own hometown and thus skip the drip back to San Marcos. I’m skeptical about the lab accepting the sample, but she assures me she’ll call ahead and it will be okay.

We get on the interstate, I’m trying to drive and eat. There’s sweat tea, honey mustard sauce and cherry coke sliding all over the place. I-35 runs all the way from northern Minnesota to Mexico, and I swear, there are only 6 miles on that entire interstate that have no bathrooms - it’s between exit 199 and 193 in Texas. We hit exit 197 and Edith announces, “I have to pee!” I state there’s no bathroom for at least 3 miles. Can she make it, or shall we pee in the woods? She claims she can make it the bathroom, quickly followed 20 seconds later by, I HAVE TO PEE RIGHT NOW. I don’t know if you have ever had a UTI, but urgency is a big thing. I’m yelling at her not to pee. I don’t really care about it being all over the truck and her clothes, but I need it to be in this stupid cup I have. So, she’s yelling she has to, I’m screaming not to, honey mustard sauce is all over my hand, cherry coke sloshing between my legs, I pull off onto the shoulder, still screaming not to pee, grab the cup, race around the truck, and meet her on the other side, with a wonderful, full front view of Interstate Highway I-35 traffic. I have the cup. “Ignore the traffic. Pee.” Normally she would have never, ever, but she had no choice, and I actually caught it – a beautiful 4 ounces instead of drops. Mid-process she says, “Mom, is this illegal?” And I acquiesced that it kind of was.

I never saw myself on the side of an interstate highway catching urine. #humility

And my truck isn’t exactly incognito if you’ve ever seen it.

We got back in the truck. Edith had the biggest look of relief on her face. I was explaining that if a police man did pull us over and we explained the circumstances, while it was technically illegal, we’d probably get a high five. But also explained that if they caught a drunk person doing the same thing, it would not turn out so well. And while I’m explaining I’m panicking, because I’m supposed to refrigerate this sample. I’m on the side of the highway in the first day of fall in Texas, which means it’s 95 degrees, instead of the 96 it was yesterday. I want to cry. I find a red solo cup, make sure the lid is firmly attached to the specimen, drop it in there, and scoop all my beautiful soft crushed ice out of my hard-earned fountain Cherry Coke into the cup. Defeated.

I called the lab and got directions and we drove in. At least my nightmare was finally over. We found the lab, walked in with the solo cup, and I told the lady, I’m here, I’m the one that called. I hold up the cup. I have the sample. I felt a triumphant. She looked at me like I was crazy. “I can’t take that.”

“What do you mean, you can’t take it? Her doctor said you’d take it.” She repeats, looking at me like I’m insane, “I can’t take that.” And I break – she sees it – I know she sees it. “Her doctor PROMISED me that you would take this. Do you know how long it took us to get this? Do you know what I went through to get this? And you won’t take it???” I was tottering between bawling and collapsing and insanity and killing her in front of my only born. She looked me dead in the eye and said, “I’ll take it.” But she said it in such a way that I knew as soon as we walked out the door she was going to dump it down the sink and she was only appeasing me because I was obviously insane. I did all I could do, took a deep breath, realized my defeat, and agreed to her false scheme, or else I would lose my shit and my pride.

“Okay.”

She handed me a specimen cup and said she needed me to pour it into that. When I said it was already in a specimen cup, her eyes lit up like Christmas! She thought I was bringing her pee in a Solo Cup. The skies parted. I laughed. She laughed. I proceeded to explain it was buried in Cherry Coke Ice, but that I sealed it real well first. She laughed more, gave me gloves, and had me clean it all and pour it from my cup into her cup.

I took Edith back to school. She made one class, and I made one appointment. Anyway. There’s that.

I picked her up then we went to the airport with one of her best friends and one of mine, and someone amazing took us both up into the sky, far, far away from all of that and everywhere. We were up in the sky with the wind in our hair and the entire earth below us. The best best ending to the worst worst day.

It wasn't the literal end - we were 40 minutes late to the first play practice we were told we should never, ever be late to. I  also accidentally left the dog in the car alone with the Taco Bell because we missed dinner. But somehow having wind beneath your wings makes it so all that doesn't really even matter. Being up in the air, above all of it, ended the chaos and reminded me to laugh, love, live, and let go.

Breathe.