I’ve made a few vague references to peeing in my pants once or twice here, so the intuitive amongst you may have figured out that I (along with thousands millions of other women, so don’t judge) experience occasional bladder issues when sneezing or laughing or jogging or jumping on a trampoline.
There. Now you all know.
It’s not a chronic problem or anything. Just an occasional (and minor) condition that I sometimes feel the need to be prepared for. So my shopping routine sometimes includes the purchase of panty-liner type products I lovingly call pee-pee pads.
I usually slip into Walgreen’s at an odd hour when the crowd is light and the chances are slim that I’ll bump into my priest or a neighbor and spare myself the awkward moment when they glance in my hand to see what I’m buying.
But today I needed school supplies and groceries and pee-pee pads, so I decided to be a big girl and go to Wal-Mart, where I could get everything I needed in one stop.
I scope the aisle I need to go down and, seeing no one I know, trot on swiftly to snatch what I need. My plan is to do a slow-rolling grab, then proceed to the shampoo aisle to calm my nerves. From there I’ll compose myself and continue shopping.
I get to the spot for my grab-and-go, but alas, the product I need is on the top shelf with only a few remaining, pushed back far beyond my reach.
Damn.
I go around the aisle to look at this predicament from a different angle, hoping to spot a misplaced package of what I need on a lower shelf. Nothing.
I stand there. Staring. As if my glare and presence are going to make the packages move to a shelf within my 5’2” reach. Still nothing.
I glance around, and notice a really tall older man on the next aisle. Perhaps I could ask him for help. (He’s much older, and probably won’t think anything of it when I asked him to hand me a package of pee-pee pads.) Nope. Not gonna happen.
Can I stand on a lower shelf and try to reach it myself? (Visual: me lying on the ground after the shelf falls on top of me, surrounded by neighbors and friends, covered with hundreds of packages of incontinence products.) Nope. Not gonna happen.
So I make another lap around the aisle looking for solutions. (Lo and behold, the aisle next to the pee-pee pads is full of geriatric products. Hmmm.) I pull a cane off the rack of geriatric aides, and (shrugging off all previous anxiety) use the cane to pull the package I need to the edge of the shelf where I can stand on my tip-toes and reach it.
Smugly, and with a sense of accomplishment, I put the pads into my cart and turn around to return the cane to the next aisle. The man I had considered asking for help was now nearby. “You had to get creative?” he said. I gathered a smiled and managed a little laugh, returned the cane, and high-tailed it to the grocery section.
I gotta find a web site where I can order this stuff online.
Lisha Writes 
Oh this is hilarious. I promise I am laughing with you. I have a leak issue but I am not ready to buy pee pee pads yet. I am in denial. Thank you for sharing this! Sometimes you do have to get creative.
Oh, I put it out there for your entertainment, so PLEASE, laugh!
You will but trust, I hope that my circumstance is not the norm! I am not excitied about going to surgery twice for the same problem but I am even less excited about peeing on myself in the middle of the grocery store parking lot bc I can’t get to a bathroom and I forgot to put a pad on. I blog about these things bc it is my escape but as u see here, it is also a relatable, relevant real life matter!
Indeed. It is extremely relatable!
Ok, hilarious. I guess I’ve just gotten to the age that I’ve decided to no longer be concerned with other people’s opinions. Everybody’s got one. That’s my story and I’m sticking to it. 😉
I hope to get there soon. 🙂
I had such problems after child one, but then child two seemed to mess things up more, so I have less problems, though I still do need to be prepared in case of a particularly large sneeze. I am so glad that our generation is able to talk about this!
When we got a trampoline a few summers ago I decided I would go for a jump. Bad idea. Very bad.
lol, this made me feel better … I have a similar experience I will blog about later as, sadly, this is now my “lot in life” until my bladder is fixed “again” next week!
Have a nice day …. Cane, lol, nice!
I think of it as a “gift” from my third child. Along with the blown vein in my left leg. Just an occasional reminder of how much I LOVE being a mother!
Oh my goodness, that is hilarious. I can just see you running the options through in your mind. The cane was a good choice, by the way! When I’m buying anything I feel is embarrassing I always just tell myself, ” I am buying this for my husband, mother, friend, cousin … ” Then (even if it’s a lie, I become the brave one not afraid to buy the product) – sometimes though I embarrassingly blurt out my lie to the check out person. Not that they cared or needed to know or had even really registered what the embarrassing product was (at least not until I said something)!
Yes, I sometimes pretend I’m doing a good deed for someone else. 🙂 I do now get to buy “briefs” for my father-in-law, but those are obviously not for me. Perhaps I should just slip both purchases in together, and hide my products under the cover of size large men’s briefs. I’ll have to consider that.