Bladder chatter?

The other night, while watching TV, I happened to catch the latest commercial for the overactive bladder medication Detrol. You've probably seen it – this woman tiptoes up to a public bathroom and sort of embarrassedly slips through the door, and then the Universal Skirted Lady Symbol on the door is all like, "Enough is enough! I'm going in!", because it's deeply concerned about Miss Urge-to-Pee, and it wants to have a really honest heart-to-heart chat about overactive bladder and the benefits of Detrol, and so it leaps off the door and runs into the bathroom after her.

I have now seen this commercial three times, and every time, I can’t help but think, What the fuck.

My quibble with it is not the obviously ridiculous reaction of the Pee Woman (who for some reason does not flee in panic from the over-large, two-dimensional icon that has just stalked her into the bathroom), but rather with the conversation that she then has with The Lady Symbol. Because she's all like, "It's not even the 'going' that bothers me – it's worrying that everyone will know!"

That is such a crock of shit.

This is where I have to get all heart-to-heart with you, readers, and confess that I have a sort of overactive bladder thing myself. It started a couple years ago (when I almost peed on the floor by the photocopy machine at work) and has been recurring at odd and problematic times ever since. It sucks. Also, being currently without health insurance, my treatment options are pretty much limited to “Kegel up and run for the bathroom”.

So, there. I said it. I have to pee ALL THE TIME. Partly, I know, it's because I drink enough Diet Coke to fill an oil tanker every week, but the rest of it is just bladderish nuisance. But the thing is, I don’t really worry about whether “everyone will know”. Because in the scheme of problems caused by overactive bladder, whether or not people know about it falls way the fuck below, oh, I don't know, wondering whether today is the day that you'll actually piss your pants in public.

That, my friends, is the lovely reality of a non-cooperative bladder: that you can be sitting at your desk, and all of a sudden, out of nowhere, your supposedly-reliable urinary system sphincter will set off an internal alarm. Except instead of a "T minus 10 seconds" thing, you only have 3 seconds, and even then, sometimes you get a little Preview of Coming Attractions in which you will feel the unmistakable sensation of a few, preliminary drops just kinda squeezing themselves out. Fun, right? But, more importantly, it leaves very little time or energy to worry about the potential judgment of coworkers who see you leaping up from your desk and bolting for the bathroom several times a day, because of the much more pressing concern that your pants not become saturated with pee.

So enough B.S., Detrol. If you want to own the market, then you need to change your tune. My suggestion: Instead of the Lady Symbol sitting down Miss Urge-to-Pee for a heart-to-heart chat, have a bunch of ninjas come crashing out of the ceiling above her office, throw the medication at her, and yell “Detrol, bitch! Because you don’t wanna pee on your pantyhose!”

And now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to pee.