Bladder Blather

Bladder Blather


Empty thoughts.

With multiple sclerosis, problems with pee-pee and poo-poo are quite common.  Namely when an MSer has to go–we HAVE TO GO.  Get out of our way ‘cuz it’s game time!

I’m undoing my pants way before I cross the bathroom threshold.  Even then it can be a close call.

Nighttime is the worst.

I’ll wake up realizing I have to go.  Get my lead legs up & adam.  Then scuttle the 20 feet to the bathroom before the dike breaks.

Mostly I make it.  But lately not so much.

It seems the closer I get–the sooner the dribble begins.

Things had to change.  I needed a new plan.


So I made a trip to the local Walgreen’s.

And at 59-years-old, made the embarrasing purchase of my 1st urinal.

I say ’embarrasing’ because it reminded me of buying condoms.

I waited till there was no line at the check-out.  Then, rushed to the front…grabbing any other shit I could find along the way…magazines, candy, batteries, hair scrunchies…ANYTHING else so the cashier would think I wasn’t there just buying condoms, or in my case, a urinal.


Upon further review.



My purchase quickly got shoved in a bag along with a 36-inch receipt and I was out the door.

Arriving home, I inspected my purchase.

My new lifesaver.



That checks out.



“Male” urinal.  Okay, that’s pretty obvious.


Whoa, What?



With “Odor Shield.”  Hmm, there really is no problem with odor, that is, unless you eat asparagus.  Ugh.


Fingers crossed.


“Spill Resistant.”  Well, let’s hope.  Apparently they are not familiar with someone who has MS as we’re clumsy types!


Pretty straight forward.

And finally, “Easy To Use.”  Let’s just say I didn’t need to read the instructions.  Just plug & play.



My only problem is the urinal’s thin, plastic construction.  

In a quiet house, during the middle of the night, me using this thing sounds like a theme park water ride in our hallway.  I cringe as a tsunami must be quieter.  It’s as though I’m shooting the rapids on the Zambezi River, for Christ sakes.

I admit the urinal HAS saved me.  No more struggles.  No more worries if I’ll make it to the potty. 

But it’s just one more “ding” MS has added to my life.  I’m not complaining, mind you.  I just tell the story to amuse.

Keep moving, mate.