BLADDER UP!

Today I was shopping in a cute little store and began engaging in conversation with cute little college girl. Before I knew it I was telling her about the horrors of aging, and that I planned to put the truth about what happens, in my blog. She asked for the blog name.  So far, I have not given this information to anyone at all.  I created a  public Facebook account under my author pen name and posted this blog info on it.  Since I really do not know this girl I decided to give it to her with the promise she won't tell anyone it is me.  So here goes.

A few years ago I was working in a career that is highly physical, requiring heavy lifting and a lot of walking and standing.  During this time I was also enjoying regular Brazilian Waxes.  Ahhhhhhh..they are fantastic and worth the reasonable, quick pain, and embarrassment.  I got busy and missed one or two, therefore, I was shaving what I could reach and attempted to shave "down under" if you know what I mean.

With one foot on the toilet, a mirror in one hand, the razor in the other, I began to attempt this difficult task.  Honing the mirror into the correct position, My hoo haw "down under" was in full plain view. We have all looked at our hoo haws before (don't you deny it) so I knew something was wrong.  Very wrong.  I took a closer look and gasped out loud.  I may even have swore. What I saw put me in mild shock.  There was a creamy white, pink veined, "ball" right inside my vagina.  Between horror and curiosity, the curiosity won and I touched it.  Nothing.  No feeling at all. Knowing that I gave up my uterus at age 28, I knew this was not it.  I put the mirror down and abandoned the shaving project.

I hurried into the bedroom and cried out loud to my my husband, "my bladder is falling out!
  Look, LOOK!"
This got his attention and he said, "What?".......

.I laid on the bed, opened my legs and demanded he look.
 "Look!  It is right there. Right inside my hoo haw peeking out.  Like a baby crowning, but it's not a baby!"

Detecting the panic in my voice, he looked.  "Closer!" I demanded.  He got closer, looked intently, and peeked out from between my legs and said, "I'm sorry I don't see anything".
 "Get the mirror!  Let me see!"
He got the mirror and gave it to me.  We did my best to position the mirror so I could see my hoo haw while laying down.  He was right.  It was gone.

Confused, I went back to the bathroom, mirror in hand, and looked while standing up, again.  Being more aware of the feeling inside my hoo haw, I did feel a sort of "shift" of something I had never felt before.  It was very subtle, but definitely movement.  Taking another look, I already knew what I was going to see.  And as sure as the sky is blue, there it was, my bladder, hanging just inside my hoo haw.

At this point I began racking my brain about what I had been feeling to ascertain if I had any symptoms of my bladder falling.  The only thing I could remember, is that for about a year, sex had become a little painful. I giggled at the hilarity of it. My husband has been  banging my bladder all this time.  Tough little body part!

Sitting in the doctors office I knew this meant surgery.  The doctor examined me and asked me questions.
"Have you had any breakthrough peeing"?   "Do you smoke"?  I shook my head "no" to both of these.  "Do you do heavy lifting"?  BINGO  I nodded.  "Have you or are you in menopause"?  Again, I nodded.  The doctor wrote some things down and told me he is very surprised that I have not been peeing my pants.  Apparently, his examination determined my bladder had fallen 85% out of place.  "You should be peeing your pants" he stated.  This was concerning to him so he insisted I see the urologist.  He was going to have to have the urologist in on the surgery to put my bladder back where it goes anyway.

The urologist found out why I had not been peeing my pants.  My bladder had fallen into my hoo haw and the ureter (the hose that go from the kidneys to the bladder) had kinked, preventing the urine flow into bladder.  SCARY.  No wonder my urine stream had been lessened.  Hmmmm........

Surgery was scheduled a couple weeks away.  One night during this time, I began to vomit violently.  I could not stop vomiting.  After sitting  by the toilet for several hours we decided I should go to the emergency room.  They gave me meds to stop vomiting and one of them was Phenergan.  Little did I know, this caused severe Restless Leg Syndrome. By this time I was very familiar with the feeling of my bladder retreating up when I laid down and my bladder falling into my hoo haw when I sat or stood up.  It was sickening.

Needless to say it was a rough night.  My restless legs wanted to go jogging.  My body and head wanted to sleep.  My legs won.  I laid there trying to resist the urge to do bicycle movements with my legs. I couldn't......I began a series of laying down and doing bicycle movements, then sitting up to look at my legs, willing them to be still.  This up and down series lasted hours.  Unfortunately, every time I laid down I felt my bladder retreat, and sitting up my bladder falling in.  Up, down, in, out. Up, down, in, out. Up, down, in, out, ALL NIGHT LONG.  Inside myself I realized the hilarity of this situation if I was not so miserable.  I vowed to someday tell this story because you will never hear it anywhere else.

Stay tuned for the hoo haw surgery story to follow.

CELEBRITY BRATS

Today I was reading the news and saw an article, supposedly, featuring Heather Locklear and Richie Sambora. Darling, talented people. The article was not about them, sadly.  It was about their daughter.  I began to seethe so I don't remember her name.  Not important.  Apparently, she is a model.  Go figure.  Hypothetically, take this same girl, subtract the famous parents, add her as a "nobody" and the result will not be that she is a model.  Or even news worthy. 

Why do brats of celebrities automatically get a "get in free" card to be famous?  Do they have the same talents as their parents?  Obviously not.  Do they have good looks?  Not always.  The point is...it doesn't matter!  The children of famous, rich, celebrities are growing like mold in the industry!  

There are a few cases, in which, these "children" don't even have to work to have the paparazzi taking pictures of them picking their noses.  I am sure the same "few" come to your mind as well....like Paris Hilton that can sit with a little doggy and have photo shoots because mummy and daddy are filthy rich.  Give me a break.  We don't give two hoots about your life!  You brats are infiltrating my beloved t.v. 

Another that may come to mind is a crew of no-talent-never-worked-never-broke-a-nail brats that are a package deal, because, apparently, nobody can just read about one. The Kartrashians, ooooops, I stand corrected, The Kardashians.  Remind me what any of you did to EARN being famous and rich! We don't care who you are dating, married, had babies with, where you took them to be baptized, or what you think of your daddy, errrrr.....mummy?   

There are a slim number of somewhat talented actors and actresses that, yes, did ride on the fame coat-tail of their parents.  Sometimes I can even bear to watch them.  How I get through it is quite interesting.  While watching the "mini-me" of whatever actor/actress they came from, I go back in my mind and think of  how hard it was for mummy or daddy to break into the business.  The slamming of doors, the calls of rejection they probably suffered, before "being discovered" by a sharp movie executive.  It takes me back to a simpler time, I suppose, is what it boils down to.  

Regardless who they are, how they got there, my message to all celebrity brats that have never had to wipe their own hiney, "Shame on you"!   My respect and admiration will always go to those that fought the fight, that were discovered because of their very own talent,  hard work, and determination.  

MY KALEIDOSCOPE

                                                           

As a kid, we all had a kaleidoscope, at one time or another.  It would create all the oooo's and aaaahhhh's of what YOU created by simply rotating the viewer.  

This is exactly how I perceive life.  Life goes on all around us and we all see it differently.  My siblings and I can recall certain events in which we were all present, however, we all have a different story about the same event.  This is the kaleidoscope view.  

There are days I need, and want, to share the kaleidoscope in my head.  It would be a cleansing effect, I think, for everyone to see, what I perceive.   So this is the beginning of a kaleidoscope ride for all the world to see.  Stay tuned!