The Mini Van Soap Box

If there is one thing I do really well, it's pee.  Seriously, I'm awesome at it. If there was a category in Pee in the Olympics I would have Gold. Lot's of them. (Mostly because it seems to me that this would not have to be a Winter OR Summer event, which means I could compete every two years)

Not everyone can be as good as me.  There are two things that make you an outstanding pee'er.  How often you go and how fast you can do it.

I'm the girl you WANT to be standing behind in line of a crowded bar with only one stall. Trust me, I can drop trough, pee, wipe, get back in my clothes, flush and get back out in the time that it take most women just to lock the door and pick a  place to put their purse.

I am, however, NOT the girl you want to take long car rides with. 6 hours turns into 7. Every time I stop to pee, I also have to refill my 64 oz. drink. So, yes, I do realize they go hand in hand.  There is not a minute in a day that I do not have some form of liquid in front of me.  And no, I do not have some disease that requires this...I just really like liquid I suppose.

So, you can only imagine my, er, discomfort, on Thursday night - when I COULD NOT PEE AT ALL and this horrible back pain with it.  It honestly felt like all of my internal organs had....fallen down...and were now resting on my bladder.  Friday morning came and went - and still not so much in the pee department.  For someone who is so damn good at pee'ing, you can only imagine how troubling this whole situation was.

As any women would, I jumped to the logical conclusion of a UTI (sorry, guys!) and called my doctor.  They got me in quick enough and a few hours later and I was peeing (or lack there of) in a cup.  To every one's surprise, however, it wasn't what we thought.  No UTI. No kidney infection. No nothing.

So, now what?

Take the drugs for the UTI and let's see what's what.

Just to be on the safe side, I called my OB and relayed the story back to them.

"Hmmmmm" was what I heard. "Given your family history, did they give you a sonogram?".

DING DING DING DING

Words I dread hearing.  I'm plagued with broken twats in my family. I have the only living coochie left on my fathers side that isn't riddled with problems.  My Aunt has survived ovarian and uterine cancer.  My older sister, younger than I am now, had her uterus and one ovary taken out.  We call her the penis sleeve. Her husband prefers penis sock.....Which ever you prefer.  Problem is though, I make it a point of making sure I don't hear those words - because I don't go to the damn doctor.


(please don't leave me comments that I'm an idiot - my mother does this on a regular basis. In it's place you can leave me a comment that says "My dog eats his own shit", and I'll know what you mean)

This time I couldn't get away from it - because my lungs are now resting comfortably on top of my bladder.

Today I saw my OB.  Apparently my left ovary had a ruptured cyst.

Awesome.

I know it's fine.  Really, I do.  I know it happens every day to tons of women. It didn't help that I have to go in tomorrow for further testing and that we talked about base lines, and family history, and uterine walls, cysts, CA 125's, and a whole bunch of other stuff that just sounded like white noise.

It did help though that I can could TELL her that my sister is a penis sleeve and she knew what I was talking about, and to better explain the procedure that I have to have tomorrow she used the words "think of a really really small dildo....with a camera on it".

I really like her.