July 3, 2000
Tidal Wave

[is she gonna write about INCONTINENCE again? that *depends.*]
 


 
It is the dawning of a new day.

Gradually ... inexorably ... strength returns to the woman.  Her depleted life force begins to regain momentum. Her stricken lungs heal and fill, once again, with clarity, purpose, oxygen. Her vital bodily fluids surge and ripple through the interior corridors of her slowly-recovering body ...

... and they STAY "interior," for a change.

In other words: I'm on the mend. And I've mostly quit peeing on stuff.  Nobody is more *relieved* about this than I am ... except maybe for The Other 50% of the Population, who has maintained a loving but careful distance from me in our bed, for the last couple of nights.  I'm probably a good couple of days away from feeling normal-normal  ...  and I still can't talk/sing/laugh/do my Donald Duck impersonation without launching into more of that endless rasping hack-hack-hacking stuff  ...  but I'm getting there.

I'm sick of writing about being sick. I plan to stop, more or less immediately.

In the meantime, yesterday's cheerfully shameless entry has prompted a veritable TIDAL WAVE of responses from you today: most of them supportive, most of them concerned, a lot of them helpful ... some of them shocked that I would even mention such a thing ... some of them laugh-out-loud hilarious ("Anyway, she's trying the pills for now and says they're working! She doesn't even have to wear 'Tidy Cat' in her underwear anymore!"). Thank you to everyone who wrote. Isn't it great how a little thing like incontinence can bring us all together?

(It's a regular *June Allyson Moment,* isn't it?)

And you want to know the most hilariously ironic part of the whole thing?

While I was sitting here yesterday afternoon, busily typing all about how I couldn't go to the family get-together with David because I didn't want to involuntarily urinate on my future mother-in-law's "lovely sofa," David was 50 miles away in Walnut Creek, sitting next to his mother at her brand-new computer ...

... proudly showing her *FootNotes.*



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