As you may have gleaned from the title, I wet the bed. I felt the urge to go. Now. So I hit my alarm to let Evan know there was an emergency, but it was too late. I was peeing.
This disease leaves you nothing.
The smell and my tears let Evan know what was wrong. I felt heartbroken, ashamed… And such relief, as if I had been holding it for hours.
Evan kept saying “poor baby” and “my precious angel,” easing my fear that he would be disgusted at having to clean up my mess. I knew with a profound wave of absolute trust that he would take care of me, do everything I couldn’t ask and better.
I have a catheter now. I feel humble and ashamed every time he empties the bag.