Only, it is. Because the food was great! The rest of the day was not as good.
Breakfast - Cottage cheese and cantaloupe
Morning snack - Farewell cupcake from the interns
Lunch - Mushroom chicken ravioli
Afternoon delight- Birthday cake (Mocha chilled layered whipped cream cake from La Bonne Bouchee)
Dinner - Dim Sum and Peking Duck!
Delicate little Shrimp Dumplings
Left: Sticky Rice Steamed in Lotus Leaf Right: Pork dumplings
Not shown: Steamed Chicken Paws (feet) because the waiter refused to let us order them.
And the crowning glory:
Peking duck with adorable little white buns and cabbage and Chinese parsley. WHICH IS CILANTRO. I thought cilantro was a South American thing, but no, China is also polluted by the foul weed. That was fine, because the Peking duck was not as delicious as the last time I had it. This duck did not require 24 hours notice, so it was suspect anyway.
The Rest of the Day
So, I dropped Gary off at his car and drove home (while Gary ran to the grocery and bought me more chocolate). I was in the garage at home, and I was outside the car, reached through to the back seat to get my box of leftover cake and DAMNIT.
I didn't choke or cough or sneeze. All I did was reach. And then I peed out. (It's my new term. It has the drama of "bled out," which I need. No one's ever embarrassed by bleeding out.) I immediately employed the Kegels, and ultimately it made a 10 second humiliating experience into a 20 second humiliating experience.
Oh, and Poise Pad? Useless. Well, it protected the garage floor. I was not protected, nor the top half of my pants, which went into the washer AGAIN.
I think perhaps I got the signal from the neurologist's office that "this happens to everyone" because perhaps it does happen to everyone with MS. And there is nothing TO be done. I mean, I'd think they'd want to do more than rule out a bladder infection, or see if it is a neurological problem with voiding or a neurological problem with not voiding, or it it's a flare-up and not a symptom.
I sent an email, and I am just going to proceed without medical advice. So! New plan!
1. I had 2 hours of urine in there, so now I will make an attempt every hour. Perhaps I can empty myself out in tablespoons. HAH! My pee is measured out in coffee spoons! That's what that poem meant.
2. Diapers? I can't picture it. It isn't pride. Let's say I'm in the office, and I lose it in the diapers (because evidently just being vertical can provoke this.) So I go in to the bathroom, and I take OFF MY PANTS IN THE STALL. I can't even keep imagining to see what happens after that. Well, what comes next is someone else in the bathroom says, "Ellen, are you okay? Why are you taking off your pants?" The door doesn't come down to the floor, and by their shoes ye shall know them in the bathroom. (I do have a pair of sandals Marcia has, and when I wear them at work I wonder if people in the bathroom think I'm Marcia.) And then what happens to the diaper? I just can't see a practical scenario.
3. However, after a little research I am reminded of another alternative: the intermittent catheter. And if I had been undecided, this is what Wikipedia says about it:
"Intermittent catheterisation is considered the ‘gold-standard’ of care for bladder emptying."
Sold! Here's my new plan. Every day I pack disposable intermittent catheters (the priciest ones I can find) and use one every two hours and throw it away in the menstrual pad disposal container, because I haven't used that thing in thirty-two years and it is my right.
Upon further research, I find I will also have to pack water-based lube (which I HAVE on hand) and that "Female intermittent catheters are generally about six inches long and come in French sizes. The French sizes range from 8Fr-24Fr."
Yeah, I don't know. All I know is I will be writing my name in the snow at the first opportunity. If I don't need a presciption I'm just ordering a bunch of different sizes and trying them out this weekend.