I’ve had a few weeks of problems with my pee. My catheter bag leaked twice, flooding my pants and chair at work. Then, earlier this week my bag malfunctioned, and I woke up in a puddle. And that mishap gave the creepy crawlies a foothold in my bladder, and I ended up with a knock-me-down fever. In response, my beautiful friend Lauren sent me this glorious prayer poem.
I have a friend who used to drink pee
Instead of tea.
She would keep it in the fridge next to the orange juice,
Ice cold urine
And sip it from a porcelain tea-cup,
With gilt edges and daisies painted along the side.
She said it was for health benefits
To keep her insides
In Nights at the Circus
There is a clown who wears a bladder on his head for hair.
His insides have come out, which is shockingly funny for a clown.
Not so for a quad.
Your insides won’t come out,
Not without assistance.
And this is the glorious job of the indwelling catheter,
Taking the piss
To an external bag discreetly bound to flesh,
That is attached to a
Thin ballooning tube going where?
Into awful mystery,
Beneath the belly
Beneath the skin,
“Now that’s a piercing!”
I know you’ve been unwell
So I pray that
Your piss week
May the golden trickle
Flow clear, bright and uninfected,
And may your insides be
More comedic than a clown,
And more nourished than a pee sipper.
Is that not the most wonderful prayer you’ve ever read?!
PS this blog is not meant as sob story. Much of it is just wet (and my own fault). Except for the fever, I’d go through it all again just to read that poem!