Today started out just like every other day here which means I went to the clinic with a cup of my own pee. (This is one of those sentences you read back in disbelief that your life is such that you said it.)
So I brought my pee but they were not happy with my pee. (There's another one of those sentences. I'm actually going to stop pointing out these sentences because, well, this whole thing.) They told me to go back to my room and drink more water and come back with more pee. If that pee did not make them happy, they were going to hook me up to another saline drip which is akin to that Chinese water torture thing you were always afraid of as a kid, only with saline and urine.
So I went to my room and watched Real Housewives of Beverly Hills on my computer, chugging water every time one of them tried to make a facial expression, and by the appointed time I had drank 2 liters of water. Done. Gold star at the clinic, they were very happy, said my pee had the clarity of a fine pinot grigio spritzer. Not really, but I pretended they did.
Then Nadir told me I had to exercise my muscles, that they were turning to mush. He probably thinks I came here all yolked up or something, but fine, I was on a high from narrowly missing the saline drip, so my dad and I went on a walk. Nadir said it was safe to go down the street a bit in the open air.
Now you must remember that this was the first time I had left my room in days. A week? I have to wear a face mask, my hair hasn't been really brushed in days. For some reason I packed 5 pairs of skinny jeans for this trip, and skinny jeans is the last thing you want to wear when you're all sausagey from saline, so my dad had bought me some horribly ugly maroon sweatpants from the mall downstairs. So I'm wearing sweatpants, a face mask, an oatmeal colored sweater that looked convalescent cozy at The Gap when I saw it but now just looks crazy lady pilled, and an old Rolling Stones tee shirt that would maybe be cool if it wasn't actually from Old Navy, god knows why they licensed to them anyway. We walked down to a park that may or may not have a Henry Moore sculpture when suddenly I had to pee. Like two liters of pee. Like NOW pee.
Look. I'm weak. I have no immune system. My lymphocytes are at 0. I couldn't exactly high tail it back to the clinic so instead I tried bargaining with my bladder. Please don't make me go pee here, please kegel kegel please. When that didn't work I just grabbed my crotch and shuffled. My dad was walking a few steps in front of me and the whole thing was just so comical I had to yell at him to stop pretending he wasn't with me. And then there were the looks. Me with my hand clenched in that timeless pee pee dance. One older woman in particular looked at me with such disgust that I just stink-eyed her right back, grabbed my vagina tighter and said very loudly, I will never see you again.
Dear god, I hope that's true.
The good news is I made it. Not with any sort of pride intact, but pee intact so whatevs. I'm guessing this is not the time for pride. Anyway, no pics of pee or ugly outfits, just this image that really spoke to me today.