It's true, I have accidents.  Almost every day.  It's terribly embarrassing.  A-choo! Oops.  That's right folks, I wet myself, and you know what, I know you do too!  That is if you've had 2 kids OR are over the age of 75.  Turns out this is one of those "women never talk about it but we all have it things".  You know like how your boobs like after nursing 2 kids?  Don't talk about it because that would mean that it really is happening.

Mine started innocently enough, I was out with friends after my second daughter was born and got to laughing real hard - whoah, what's that we feeling?  I figured I'd just make the mistake of not going to the bathroom after several beers.  Of course I rushed to the bathroom to check the damage and what felt like a faucet was really only a little drop.  Still, imagine spending the rest of the night sitting there trying to be cool knowing you had pee-pee in your panties. 

Fast forward three years later and I've come to realize that this problem is not going away and I need to manage it the best I can which means going to the bathroom at regular intervals, and making sure that water consumption is managed well. Still, from time to time I slip and then bad things happen.  Recently at work I had an "incident".  I recently had taken to getting a large water bottle and filling it up so I can work at my desk and keep the water flowing.  Normally I get up every hour or so to use the ladies room, but this day I was focused, cranking out work and rolling through a todo list.  Whether you work at home or in an office, you know when you're having one of those days where you can feel yourself crawling out from being behind, and it's euphoria, it's great, you're getting it all done!  So I didn't want to stop, it would break the magic, and frankly, I was so focused that I wasn't even aware of the increased pressure in my bladder.

Well someone came in the office to talk to me and they made me laugh.  The kind that just pops out unexpectedly, like a bark.  Well this bark had some bite. Namely 2 hours worth of water with no break.  I was mort-i-fied.  I kept smiling but was starting to do triage.  How bad could it be?  Oh my gosh, what if my seat is wet?  Do I smell like grandma?  How fast can I get this person out of here?  What if it starts again and doesn't stop? All the while trying to act like I'm interested in what the person says.  Time was moving in two parallel universes.  The one was me acting interested in a conversation and trying to remember salient points because there were somethings I needed to keep track of.  The second universe, pee-pee land was one where I was assessing the damage, and trying me damnedest to keep my whoo-ha squeezed shut so no further leakage occurred.

After what seemed like hours, I was finally able to break free and head to the ladies room.  No I didn't even look at my chair because I was afraid of what I might find.  I pushed it under my desk in case the office mate happened to glance over.  Then I rushed to the john, undoing my pants as I'm walking in the door (thank god no one was in there) and proceeded to start going again while I was pulling my drawers down.  AUGH.  What is happening to me!  I am 35 not 75!  Fuck! 

After assessing the damage - a little wet spot in the pants, not to odoriferous, but some mighty damn undies, I decided there was only real choice - commando.  So I got naked at work - or at least it felt like that, get redressed without undies and then hid the undies in some towels and shoved them down in the trash.  Thankfully my seat was also dry and my pants stayed dry for the rest of the day.

I was always afraid to talk about this, and it's something I plan to discuss with the doctor at the next annual, but I decided to come clean because lets face it, we all are struggling with this to varying degrees.  One of my very good friends admitted it to me recently - her commando story - she went jogging at work and whild running down the street she started to drip.drip.drip down her leg.  After laughing so hard I was crying, and leaking, I realized that we all must be going through this and we need to speak up so the docs will fix us.

I'll keep you posted on possible treatments.  And for those of you who say do some keigels - honey I've done so many I have the vagina of an 18 year old - but I still wet my pants.  Getting old is a bitch.