I'll be out of Haggis HQ for a couple of days as I go for a consult at a major transplant center in New England. Sounds simple enough, right?
You'll recall that I cannot fly due to low white counts. Which means that I also cannot take a train, it also requiring me to commune with The Great Unwashed. Which means that BBDD is going to drive me. Eight hours.
Fair enough. But insightful readers will wonder, "Well, if she can't get on a plane and can't get on a train--how will she able to go into a New Jersey Turnpike rest area bathroom?"
The short answer? I can't.
The long answer? Such has been my dilemma as we have planned this trip down to the last detail: Cipro? Check. Thermometer for hourly temp check? Check. Multiple masks for whatever situation may arise? Check. Maps to hospitals along the way just in case (god forbid) I spike a fever and need immediate help? Check.
Where to pee? Check-mate.
Hold it for 8 hours? Those of you who know me (or have been long-time readers) are aware that I can't hold my pee for 8 minutes, especially during any car journey, client meeting or movie screening. Holding it for 8 hours simply ain't gonna happen.
Which brings me to this:
Whaddaya say? Should I take friends' suggestions and make like that NASA woman who drove to Florida to supposedly kill her former flame? Just throw on some granny panties and put the pedal to the metal?
I'm torn. On the one hand, there seem to be few other options. On the other, there are lines that even I cannot bring myself to cross--and peeing in my (albeit paper padded leakproof) pants is one of them. I think I'll get stage fright and won't be able to do it.
Well, whatever I decide to do, I probably won't share out of sheer embarrassment. (Who am I kidding?! Full report upon my return!) But in the meantime, you all can send me any suggestions you may have...
ps--Happy Patriots Day, Massholes! Happy Emancipation Day, DC Denizens!