Bladder 911: After Too Many Bathroom Emergencies, I Learned How to Pee Better​

After just one hour on the road as we began our romantic getaway, I squeezed my thighs like the jaws of life. My husband, Doug, stopped the car at the first building where I could relieve myself. “Excuse me, where is your restroom?” I asked the medical office receptionist. “Do you have an appointment?” she said. “No, but I do have a bit of an emergency.” “I’m sorry, ma’am, we don’t have one,” she said, focused on the screen while balancing the phone between her shoulder and her ear and tapping on the keyboard.  “Where do you go when you need to use the restroom?” I asked, pretending to believe her BS, and stalling while I scanned the open space until I spotted the door marked “Restroom.” “Well, we have one, but it’s not for the public,” she whispered. “Well, I really gotta go,” I whispered back, tightening my pelvic muscles. Then I made a run for it or, rather, a walk, with quick, tiny steps since my knees were pressed together so tightly. I wasn’t about to beg to use the toilet. But I also wasn’t about to wet my pants and the floor. I barely locked the door behind me as I struggled to hold it in and wrestle with the button on my jeans.I ignored the seat covers like I always did while I simultaneously pulled down my panties and pants with one hand, grabbed the wall bar with the other, hovered over the toilet, and let it go. It seemed like a full minute passed before the stream stopped. When I thought I was finally on E, I slowly stood up, willing my body to relax, ensuring there was no more to come. Whew, I’d made it without soiling my sexy new panties. 

I Was Tired of My Bladder Controlling My Life 

As empty nesters, we had expectations for a new sense of fun and excitement with each other. I loved last-minute getaways, but I hated the planning that had to go into getting there. While I should be enjoying the ride, I was constantly monitoring my aging bladder for any signs of needing relief, even though I had a few supposedly “good” habits meant to control it, like not drinking anything to wash down my bagel the morning of the trip.I was unknowingly 'training' my bladder to signal the urge even when there was very little pee. Imagine if your car’s low fuel warning light came on when your tank was still half full? Our bladders have a neurological 'warning light' that conversely lets us know we’re nearing capacity.Instead, there I was, head pounding, lips dry, completely dehydrated. When I got back in the car, I didn’t say anything. Neither did Doug. He knew it would take me a few minutes to get over my frustration. So he gave them to me but didn’t let me stew in the frustration for too long.“Face it,” he joked, “you’re getting old.” “No matter how old I get, I’ll always be younger than you, Mr. Retiree,” I said. “Maybe so, but you’re the one running to pee every hour.” In truth, getting older wasn’t what frustrated me; I was 51 years young, not yet eligible for senior discounts nor ready for adult diapers. No matter which venue I entered, I’d case the joint like a VIP’s bodyguard. When I walked or ran in my neighborhood, I carried the key fob to our fitness center to dip in for a squat if I needed to go, and I’d plan my route so I could pass it going and coming. And every time I entered a mall with my daughter, she’d ask, “Ma, you wanna go before we get started?” 

Learning Better Bladder Habits

When I returned home after that near mishap on the road, I did some research and checked in with my doctor. Turns out my urgency to void my bladder was made worse by an information void. Here’s what I learned: