I could also pee like a big boy about a week ago, and now I’m resigned to peeing into a bag tied to my leg. Just like that. It’s just easier to go out into the world (or even just downstairs to make a cup of coffee) with an external catheter and a bag than it is to risk the anxiety of maybe having to find a couple of parked cars to dive between in order to suddenly pee (try finding parked cars in your kitchen while you’re making coffee!). The notion that I’m just 40 years old and have had to simply accept that I am completely incontinent (and impotent), is a reality that I’d never have imagined even just a couple of years ago. You can throw a temper tantrum. You can dig your heels in and refuse. But what does it get you? Wet pants.
[An incredibly painful story.]