Betsy Wetsy

A cold that turned into bronchitis has knocked me flat on my back. Well, flat on my bed in an upright position, since I can't breathe when I'm laying down. It has zapped every ounce of energy from my body, and apparently my bladder control. Sneezing, coughing and even just blowing my nose cause me to wet myself.

It's gotten to the point that whenever I feel a sneeze coming on, I run for the toilet, because simply crossing my legs isn't doing the trick anymore.

It wouldn't be so bad, because I have over 30 pairs of underwear, but then I went and peed myself in my doctor's waiting room during a violent coughing fit. Talk about embarrassing! Grown women don't usually have to carry extra pairs of underwear in their purses, though I might consider it if I go out again before I'm better. I do not want THAT happening again.

Oh, and I'm pretty sure my new found incontinence has more to do with an in utero baby pushing on my bladder mixed with sudden spastic pressure and not so much to do with getting older, as a dear friend is trying to convince me. No Depends for me just yet! Well, seriously hoping not.

So for now I'm firmly planted on my bed, propped up with every pillow in the house, trying not to whine too much (I'm wimpy, I whine!), with a surprisingly sympathetic Gilberto waiting on me hand and foot (I'm usually told to suck it up). He grew up with a super human mother who never let a little sickness stop her from taking care of her house or family, and I don't think he even knew women COULD get sick until he met me.

I have another doctor's appointment tonight because the antibiotic I'm on isn't working. I need for the healing to begin! Gabi has gotten away with a magnitude of stunts because I haven't had the energy to watch her like I should, the house is a mess and we're running out of clothes. I NEED to get better.