This is a piece that I originally wrote for Aiming Low about Stress incontinence but I had to share it here as well because it makes me giggle. I know my readers and I know 99% of you can relate to this post.Kegel on my friends and enjoy.

What ever happened to doctor patient privilege?

Is there no dignity left in the world?

I was on the phone talking to our new insurance company agent and was being interrogated asked, what I assumed to be, standard medical questions. I expected them to be somewhat personal; it is the nature of the beast. I had no idea the degree. How could I ever know that anyone would ask me if I ever, you know, tinkled when I sneezed?

Not as personal as the therapist asking me if I talk to God…and does he answer. (My God woman, I just met you I’m not telling you what the voices in my head say or don’t say.)
I digress.

The nurse politely and matter of factly asked me about different conditions that I may currently have or have had in the past according to my medical history. I was prepared to explain that time that I had that gerbil removed or the time I thought my headache was brain cancer and insisted the doctor ran every test imaginable. I was prepared to explain all of that away.Then it got personal, we moved on to the “area” and suddenly we are talking babies, and labors, my deep cervix and even my vagina made a cameo appearance in this conversation but I was not prepared for the question she asked next.

Nurse: “So, what about stress incontinence?”

Me: “Pardon me?? I am not familiar with that diagnosis or that term?” (Is this the clinical term for a brain fart?)

My God, I thought, was she asking me if I soil myself when I got stressed out? Was that even a ‘thing”? Was this an actual bonafide medical condition? If it is, I don’t have it.  Have never been diagnosed with it and certainly don’t want it. I mean, there was that one time in college when I had that really bad pneumonia and I coughed so hard that I farted. It was humiliating. How did she know?

She explained, “It’s when you sneeze and there is a release of a small amount of urine.”

Me: “Oh, you mean do I tinkle when I sneeze? Yes, occasionally ( like every single time I sneeze, cough, laugh or move too quickly. It’s like a had a perfectly good urethra and now, my kids broke me. I have a leaky faucet) if I sneeze really hard (thanks to my beautiful big headed babies). Why yes, I do sometimes have to do the peepee dance so I don’t piss on myself at zumba. But it’s not always…just sometimes. Well, like 30% of the time. OK, well, maybe more like 67% of the time. 80% of the time tops.”

Come on, surely I’m not the only Mommy who has had this happen, right? Oh please don’t tell me it’s JUST me. There is no way that I am the only one in Zumba class who is having to sport a Depends. Why else do you think my yoga pants are so lumpy? What, you thought that was cellulite? I cannot believe that I am the only person who is afraid that sneezing, coughing or laughing too hard can cause Mama to water the plants. Don’t tell me you do your Kegel exercises religiously and have the vaginal wall of a 16 year old? If so, I’m not sure we can be friends any longer.

The nurse was really trying to be serious. Next question, “Do you require any treatment for this condition?”

Me: “Oh, you mean other than the peepee dance? Not really, just remembering to practice my Kegels. Maybe I need some gingko, my memory is not what it used to be.”

Nurse: “Any plans for treatment or corrective surgery in the future?”

Me: “No, it’s kind of like being ugly. You just kind of have to learn to live with it!”

At this point, she laughed out loud. And this concluded our interview.

I am a little concerned that I am in a chart somewhere as a grown woman who tinkles on herself (just a little bit and just on occasion…OK, OK, 80% of the time!) but it’s better than what I had originally thought…. One who poops on themselves in stressful situations! Now, that’s a stressful condition. Can you imagine, explosive diarrhea every time you were stressed out?

No amount of Kegels in the world is going to fix that.

And in case you’re still fixating on the whole gerbil incident, God told me to do it…during our conversation, in which I asked what I could do to make him smile. He answered.

Stress incontinence~ Is that a Gerbil in Your Pocket or are You Just Happy to see Me?