Bladder: (n) a membranous sac in which urine is collected for excretion.
As I write this essay, I have squeezed my legs together because I need to pee.
It’s called Phase #1: I hold my breath and wait for about ten seconds, and the urge temporarily passes.
It is the first warning from my bladder that eviction is inevitable.
I don’t know if there’s a part of the body that is quite as insistent as the bladder for taking over matters in such a threatening way.
I have waited until Phase #2 many times. This is where a twinge of back pain accompanies the urge to squeeze out. The body is letting you know that withholding the pleasure of urination is creating great distress within the natural chemistry.
Phase #3: a fear of moving because of double dribbling.
I have gone as far as Phase #4, when my internal workings basically say, “screw this,” and I begin to release with no option.
Therefore, even though we take great pride in being in control of our lives, we must always understand: the bladder is really the ringmaster.