Soon enough, I’d be certain “to go” before driving to work (or driving just about anywhere); right before the curtain at the theater; and twice, if possible, before wheels-up on a flight (cutting down on my preflight caffeine intake helped, as did handing over a few extra dollars for an aisle seat). I started paying attention to those “60 miles to the next rest stop” road signs on the interstate; if it were more than 20 minutes away, I would stop even if I didn’t feel the urge yet.
Then came the day when I miscalculated. Driving from the Mojave Desert to Los Angeles International Airport on Interstate 10, a distance of about 150 miles, I decided to skip my mid-trip “safety pee” because, thanks to lane closures and car crashes, I was running way late. In bumper-to-bumper traffic, I crept toward LAX. I could feel my bladder first start to bulge, then crest like a river on the verge of a breach. I focused on all the perineum- strengthening exercises I’d learned in yoga — basically Kegels to strengthen the pelvic floor. I’d count, “one, two, three, four, five” and squeeze my pelvic muscles. Then, I’d release, also to a count of five. I had barely finished the second set when I knew I needed a better way.
Someone's taking the piss...