The last couple of blogs have seen us at a bachelor party, at a wedding ceremony... and now we’re at the reception. Which of course means an immediate glass of fizz.
I don’t want to sound like your mom, but don’t forget to stagger your drinks, or you’ll be staggering yourself. If, like me, you have certain ‘uro-needs’ (in my case a semi-artificial bladder that I wasn’t born with, but is now mine – my ‘step-bladder’ so to speak), you’ll know to be hyper-aware of having too much beverage. Those wedding receptions can be long.
On this particular occasion, there was a vast two-hour gap between arrival at the venue and the meal. Plenty of time to enjoy a drink or three, locate the facilities, and even find a place for my little bag of magic urological wonders (I often use a small shaver bag: discreet, gentlemanly, and unknown to others to actually be stuffed full of pee tubes).
Reception venues all have their own nooks and crannies for storage, but guests are always picking up the wrong bag or jacket, so it’s good to be careful. When I’ve brought a cath bag to weddings, I’ve sometimes hidden it behind a vase of flowers, on a high window sill, or just popped a cath in my wife’s purse (she knows about this, BTW – she doesn’t just take out her lippy and get an unfolding plastic tube in the face).
One quirk of weddings is the outfit. And I don’t mean the wedding dress, I mean the suit. I’ve always got a catheter on me, hidden in my belt: one of those money belts you get at airports or in Spanish markets, perfect for concealing one emergency tube. Every variation of trouser I own has belt loops – I make sure of it. Except at one wedding where I was a groomsman. We all hired posh tail type suits, with – shock horror – no belt loops. Alright, jacket pockets exist too, but there was one moment of panic when I took my jacket off and left it somewhere. Suddenly, rarely, I had no catheter on me – and though I was wearing shirt, waistcoat and fancy pants, I felt utterly exposed.
Five minutes later I spotted a chilly bridesmaid with my jacket over her shoulders. Another groomsman had gallantly offered to warm her up – though not by using his own jacket, the swine. Thankfully, my cath remained in the pocket. Though I wonder, if she’d flung it out and another bridesmaid had caught it, would she be the next person to have a catheter? Probably not.
One last wedding blog post next time, as we dance into the night.
The opinions expressed here are of a personal and anecdotal nature, and are in no way a substitute for professional medical advice. You should always consult your doctor or nurse if you have any questions.