Went in for lab work earlier this week in preparation for my annual physical. I have never had a fear of needles or an aversion to blood, so filling several test tubes for various tests went without a hitch. Then the tech handed me a cup and asked for a urine sample.
Now, I’m the kid who could never make it through class without a potty break, and I still can’t drive over 100 miles without a stop, but I have never been able to urinate on demand. After about 5 minutes in the restroom, I told the lab guy it just wasn’t going to happen.
He said “I only need a little, just enough for a dip stick.”
I replied that volume was not the issue, but that I would bring it back later. He said that, if he didn’t get the sample now, he would have to re-do all the paperwork. So 45 minutes, a bottle of water and a cup of coffee later, I gave him his specimen.
That wasn’t my worst experience by a long shot.
Back in 1966, at my pre-induction physical, the army doctors sent two dozen of us to the restroom with specimen cups. Ten minutes after everyone else had left, I was still standing there in my skivvies with a specimen cup in one hand and my… well, you get the picture.
Finally, in desperation, I grabbed the cup off the rack with the most urine in it – it was almost overflowing – and poured half of it into my container. Luckily – or not, depending on your point of view – my unwitting urine donor was healthy, and two weeks later I was on a bus headed to Ft. Polk for basic training.
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