Yankee Piddle Dandy

As the country commemorates its freedom from tyrannical kings, I too am celebrating a liberation, too: from a tyrannical bladder.

Ever since I moved back home, I have been having to get up early in the morning to use the bathroom. And it is on the other side of the house. And urgency is a definite issue. It hasn't always been a leak-proof morning is all I will say.

Part of it is that Dad takes out Claren in the morning so I can sleep. This is great, but my stupid bladder misses that early-morning purge.

Like John Adams and the other founding fathers we took action. We ordered a urinal to keep by the bed. And this morning at 5 a.m., I used it.

Not that it is easy to pee when lying down. I may ask my 3-year-old nephew for tips. I was lying there, the urinal and body parts in place, and I was too nervous. I was screaming at myself to relax my muscles.

It reminded me of this test I have had twice. It involves a catheter, which fills your bladder so the doctor can see any trouble spots, like an Iraq in your bladder. You are supposed to tell them when you are full.

The first time I had it done was in a hospital and there was a friendly doctor who was marveling at my capacity. I told him I was full and he said, OK, just go. Talk about unrelaxed muscles. There was only a catheter down there. Finally, they hit me with a sedative and that apparently solved the issue.

The other time was in a doctor's office. No drugs in sight, except for a little numbing agent to get the catheter on it merry way. Again, I said I was full and the doc said just go. It didn't work then either.

Finally, I relaxed enough this morning and as I peed I hummed the Star Spangled Banner.