Before we get started, a message for my male readers: If you’re uncomfortable hearing about female anatomy and hygiene, I suggest you skip this week’s post. But if you’re man enough to handle it, grab a pen and get ready to be schooled in broken lady parts.
Now that that’s out of the way …
A word to the women out there … ALWAYS use the bathroom before you leave the house and whenever you have the opportunity while on a road trip. And whatever you do, I beg you, DO NOT HOLD IN YOUR PEE. It won’t end well. Trust me.
I am someone who pees a lot. In fact, I dubbed myself, “Queen Pee” back in 2024 when I confessed to peeing between a neighbors shrubs while out on a long walk/jog early one morning. I’m not proud of it, but it had to be done. It was that or pee my pants — and that was not an option.
Let me provide some context for you: I am fourteen years postmenopausal. I am also a cardholding member of the “childbirth-ruined-my-pelvic-floor” group and the owner of a small bladder. Add in the fact that I drink over a gallon of water a day, and it’s easy to understand why I make it my business to know where the best public bathrooms are at all times.
But sometimes, nature calls when a bathroom is not in reach — as was the case in 2024 when I peed in front of a horse farm, and again last week when I was driving into Philly to meet a girlfriend for dinner.
Normally, it takes me 40+ minutes to get into the city from my sub-rural home. Last Wednesday, it took me nearly 2-1/2 hours!
As I said before, I drink A LOT of water. But drinking water while you’re stuck in standstill traffic on the highway is not a good idea. By the time I got into the city, I was crying from the pain of holding in the 32 ounces of water I had just consumed.
With city traffic being just as bad as the highway traffic, I knew I wasn’t going to make it. So just two blocks from the restaurant, I pulled over and squatted down between two car doors to discreetly pee in the street. Well, as discreetly as possible when parked in front of a large apartment building with lots and lots of windows.
Luckily, I have strong quads. (Squats and wall sits for the win!)
But unluckily, I couldn’t control the amount of urine I was expelling or the haphazard direction of the wild stream. It wasn’t pretty. And worse, I think I broke my vagina.
Okay, I didn’t break my vagina. But I did get a horrible UTI.
As a postmenopausal woman with Sjögren’s disease, I’m no stranger to a dry vagina. It’s par for the course when you have no estrogen and a disease that dries up all your bodily fluids.
What I’m not used to, however, is having sore, burning labia that hurt 24/7. And when I say burning, I mean, it feels like my crotch is on fire. It’s been six days and peeing still hurts. Wiping still hurts. Wearing leggings still hurts. I imagine sex would hurt,too, but that’s off the table until this clears up. (Sorry, S.)
I learned my lesson the hard way, but you don’t have to, ladies.
Take it from me: Never pass up a chance to use the bathroom, and don’t guzzle water in traffic — unless of course you’re looking for a better excuse than”I have a headache” to forego sex for the next week or two.
—LJDT
