clarapee

I had to go to St. Mike’s this morning for my routine blood work (see below). I was told we were going to start adding urine tests, because I’m taking so much freaking calcium. Okay, well that’s annoying but you gotta do what you gotta do – better that then kidney stones. So I waltz in and give them my forms, and hospital card, which I have all ready to go - old pro that I am by now. And she gives me a jug. A HUGE ORANGE JUG.














This is my jug next to a LITRE water bottle - for scale. Awesome.

“Um, what’s that?”
“It's for urine collection.”
Panic
“Uh, I really don’t have to go that much.”
Wan smile

Okay okay it wasn’t exactly like that. The lab tech gave me the jug and my panic must have shown because her voice softened and she asked if I’d ever had a 24-hour urine test before. Um, no. How could you tell? I think I was gripping the counter at this point, white knuckles belying my distress.

My number one concern?

“Um, do you have a bag for that?

I started laughing as soon as I got in the elevator. I was still laughing while I walked to work, clutching my big orange jug in a brown paper bag. I was sure everyone knew what was in there.

So I have to pee in this thing for 24 hours. I think I’ll start Saturday, as I really don’t relish the thought of carrying this thing with me every time I need a potty break at work today. Here I was worried I would have nothing to do this weekend. The best part, in my mind, is the thought of taking it in on Sunday. Riding the subway with a quart of my own pee sloshing about.

That or having a big jug of pee in my fridge all weekend. I can’t really decide which thought tickles me more.