Adventures in diagnostic testing
And I Thought Peeing in A Cup Would Be Easy
Like many people, I’ve put off some routine medical testing and exams lately. I’m not proud it’s been a few years, but today’s the day!
First up, an exceptionally tall, muscular and cute dude in light green scrubs perfectly matching his mesmerizing eyes, hands me a preemie-sized sippy-cup and points to the bathroom. “There are instructions in there for you to collect your urine sample. Place it on the metal shelf and then I’ll take care of it.”
Hmmm, it might be difficult to pee knowing that Mr. Universe is only a few feet on the other side of this particle board door. Like trying to pee on safari when the guide is crouched next to you as protection from getting eaten by a lion. My next unsettling thought was that this man I had chatted up to gauge his interest in dating my niece would momentarily be handling my warm urine.
I know what you’re thinking — I have peed before. But I’m a rule follower, so I dutifully studied the two pages of single-spaced typed instructions taped to the wall. I was relieved that only one page pertained to my set of genitalia. I did note however, that I had eight steps to complete while men only had four. It’s always more difficult for us ladies!
Below are the actual steps that I was told to follow:
Clean Catch Urines
I thought I had this under control, but I’m immediately thrown off by the title — “clean catch?” Is this a fly-fishing competition?
Second, is the word urine plural in this circumstance? Are there different human urine(s) like Gatorade flavors? How did I not know this?
If the specimen is improperly collected it may be rejected
Talk about a mindf$%&. It’s one thing to be rejected by a sorority, pot smoking boyfriend, or non-custodial parent, but to have my urine rejected? A waste product that I have rejected is now subject to rejection? This is difficult for my Type-A brain to accept, so I am now even more focused on getting this thing right.