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I Pissed My Pants in Public Yesterday...

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Before I began radiation therapy, I met with my doctor to go over the potential side effects, and one of the items on that extensive list was frequent urination

On Thursday at 5:00 a.m., I started my preparation for radiation. I ate breakfast, took a shit, then I drank the required 50 ounces of water, some while I was home, the rest on the way. By 7:00 o'clock, I was ready and sitting in the waiting room, and at 7:15, I was called in for my treatment, which went well. It was my 30th.

I was in the habit of making a pit stop after the treatment and before I left the facility, but lately, I've been good to go, and I've been taking a leak when I got home, which is only a ten-minute ride. 

As I was driving home, I remembered my wife telling me to make sure I topped off my gas tank because of the frigid temperatures and wind chill expected this weekend. It's something I've always told her to do when it got cold, so it was good advice.

I figured I could stop on my way back, top off my tank, and then drive home without so much as a glitch. I pulled into the new Cumberland Farms in Norton, unlocked my fuel cap, inserted my credit card, and after I was instructed to do so, I began filling. I had just under a quarter of a tank.

Now, it wasn't outrageously cold, definitely below freezing, and what happened next was totally unexpected…

I got the nozzle in and cranked to the highest setting, and I was watching the numbers change like a gas-pumping zombie. It was after standing there for only a minute that I started to do that dance. You know the one, it's an "I have to pee so bad I'm morphing into Ed Grimley…"

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I looked at the numbers on the pump, and I knew I had at least 10 more gallons to go, but I figured I could make it despite my dance movements becoming more herky-jerky and desperate. I started to panic, knowing my urge to relieve myself had intensified because of the cold air… At one point, I almost clicked the pump off, but I'm stubborn, not too unlike Kramer and the used car salesman driving on empty. I was in no man's land, and I knew it; no, I embraced it! 

Then it happened… An uncontrollable squirt. I still believed I could minimize the urge by posturing and trying not to think about it. Kind of like not scratching an itch. I'm disciplined, and mind-over-matter had always worked for me in the past…

Suddenly, there was another squirt, reminding me my current dilemma was more serious than I was admitting. My dance movements were getting more pronounced, and I was walking further and further away from my truck, but I still believed I could make it… 

I looked around, knowing my Ed Grimley Dance had become a "I have to piss like a fucking racehorse" dance, and I could see that some of the other patrons were being entertained by my herky-jerky dance movements. Apparently, peeing your pants in public is great content!

Then it happened… I couldn't stop it. I took a full-out leak and could feel it running down my legs under my favorite Puma sweatpants, the warm stream stopping only when it reached my quarter-length socks. At that point, I stopped dancing and just let it happen. It was actually a huge relief, and if I'm being honest, it felt so fucking good! I laughed all the way home!

I went home and did my laundry and had it folded and put away before my wife got home…