Never has the obscure phrase, “There is a reason my hair is wet.” elicited such riotous laughter from a group of medical people. But that’s exactly what happened when Frank and I returned from the bathroom at the doctors office. It was his third and finally successful trip to offer up a urine sample.
I’m not sure this is a genetic thing, but I had a similar problem, so it might be all my fault.
In 1989 when I went for my in-processing physical for the US Air Force I had a huge problem coming up with a sample. I’ll never forget my 9 hours at the Military Entrance Processing Center, or MEPS, on Cherry St. in Philadelphia. There was a huge crack down on narcotics in the military so the urine sample was a big deal. The guys going in the Navy weren’t even allowed to hold their own cup. They had to stand with their backs to the urinal facing an observer who held the cup and when full, spin and finish up in the urinal while still being observed. The Army and Marines were able to go in a stall on their own and us Air Force guys went in a group with a single observer standing at the door.
Of course I could not pee in public and was firing dust. This raised suspicion and shaped my entire time at the MEPS. After each part of the physical I went to the kitchen area and drank 3 large glasses of water, while being observed. After about 4 hours of this I was ready to choke. Phila tap water ain’t like drinking from a babbling brook, unless that brook is the waste water flowing from a trash to steam plant.
At the 7 hour mark I was ready to pour forth like Nile, or Euphrates, or Niagra. Just insert your own analogous large body of rushing water reference, and that was me as I was nearing 8 hours of drinking 24 large glasses of water. As I said the eyebrows were raised because of my inability to come up with a sample even after 4 hours of drinking Philadelphia’s finest nectar. So the docs decided it would be fun to make me wait until the exam was completely over. The last station of the day, a 40 pound vertical lift. I was going to be an aircraft electrician so I had to prove I could handle the weight I would encounter on the flight line.
Amazing how motivating having to pee so bad I could barely stand up can be. I threw that weight around like nothing. Could have easily gone to 60 or 80. The doc finally let me go, but I got a bathroom buddy. That same poor bastard from the Navy side had to hold the cup. But he smartened up. He let me face the urinal, he just stood in between me and it. That cup was filled at the speed of sound and he was slow to react. The result was a trip to the sink and a change of uniform for him, but not until after he handed off my sample. Then I stood at the urinal for what seemed like 30 minutes. To this day it remains the greatest pee of my entire life.
Aren’t you so glad you clicked the link.
So flash forward to January of 2014. My son is being tested for diabetes and they need a sample. It’s the sole reason we are there so guess what, he’s drinking water from the tap. Almost brought a tear to my eye. It only took him three glasses before he went running down the hall. But now I’m the poor bastard with the cup so I have to catch him.
I get there as he’s ripping his pants down. I get him lined up to hit the mark and for some reason he can’t he can’t “let go”. The cup must be throwing him off. So I turn the water on in the sink, flush the toilet, sing old man river, I’m trying everything to get him to pee.
Then without warning the dam breaks. But Frank decides now would be a good time to act like he’s a fireman on the high pressure hose who’s being electrocuted. He starts all manner of gyration and the “fire hose” is completely out of control. It would have been great if the roof, window, sink, mirror, floor, trash can, and my face and head were all on fire. But they weren’t.
I stayed in the fight though, taking one for the team as it were, and got the cup filled to the top.
Once the dust, or pee in this case, settled I looked at my only son with a disbelief bordering on sobbing despair. Picture Nancy Kerrigan after she got knee capped before the Olympics. “Why Frank, why didn’t you just stand still?!?” He started to get upset but then started laughing uncontrollably. Little chooch.
Well, we got cleaned up and all he could say was “I filled the cup!” It’s always about him. Wonder where he got that from?
We drop the cup off at the nurses station and the Doc was impressed that he filled it to the top too. As they are heaping praise on him I decide a dose of reality is in order and I utter the line from above. “Hey he ain’t William Tell. There is a reason my hair is wet!”
Made their day I guess. Hell, Frank got to go to the treasure chest, not for his accuracy but for his volume. Me, I got nothing but the hot nurses tagging me with the moniker as the guy who got peed on by his son.
It could be worse, but I’m having trouble imagining how.
Oh yeah, no diabetes, although at this point that seems a minor part of the story.
Is there a moral to the story? Yeah be careful who you pee on.
You never know when it’ll be you holding the cup.