I am the type of person that is more likely to write about a subject if there is a “lesson” or at least some nugget of wisdom that a person could walk away with. However, it is certainly not the case with this blog. So go ahead, sit back, prop your feet up, and read on. Oh, and feel free to laugh as this is 100% true!

It was late, getting close to midnight, and I was finally pulling off the highway into Grove City, PA. My sister was graduating from college the following day and my family had arrived earlier. I had to finish working at my clinical rotation before embarking on the 7-hour journey and therefore was left to drive alone. I was exhausted and the drive through Ohio was unbelievably boring. I wasted time by flipping through radio stations, eating the snacks I had packed, and drinking plenty of water- don’t they say that water helps keep your brain alert? As I pulled off of the highway I called my parents to get directions to my great Aunt and Uncle’s house as I had never been there before. I began to snake through town on my search for E. Washington Street, where they apparently lived.

However, I should mention that about an hour before I had even reached my exit, I began to feel the effects of all the water I had drank. My bladder was feeling uncomfortably full but I pressed on, realizing how late it was and how close I was getting to my destination. But as I was making my way through town, I began to squirm a little more in my seat with futile attempts to focus on the road or the weather, anything other than the fact that I was in desperate need of a bathroom. Unfortunately, driving through a small town at midnight leaves you with zero options on public bathrooms and I began to curse myself for not stopping at the last rest stop.

I turned onto a road and was finally at the point in my directions where I was looking for my next and final street, E. Washington. I slowed down and squinted through my window, trying to get a glimpse of the street signs amidst the blackness around me. Sweat started to trickle down my temple, not due to the warm temperature, but due to the fact that I wasn’t sure I was going to make it before my bladder exploded. I was positive that I was going to wet my pants and tried to think back to the last time that had happened, but the memory escaped me. I slowly crept along the street when suddenly an overwhelmingly surge of relief swept over me. Low and behold, in front of me the sign read E. Washington. I quickly turned onto the street and peered at the house numbers, certain I was almost upon my destination and that a bathroom and relief were near. I passed a side street on my left and glanced up only to be overcome with a near panic attack. I had not turn onto E. Washington, but rather W. Washington. Who knows how much further that street was! In my panic, the wheels inside my head were spinning, formulating a plan. Before I had time to even process the logistics of the plan, I was acting out on it. I pulled my car over to the side of the road and left it running while I jumped out. It was dark with minimal street lamps lighting the neighborhood and not a single light was on in any of the houses. I spotted a large bush on the corner in between the sidewalk and the street. Quickly glancing around me and confident that no one was even awake on this street, I ducked behind the bush and settled into a comfortable squat with my pants around my knees. Relief washed over me in mere seconds as my bladder began to relax. Mid-stream and just as I was letting out a sigh of relief, a car on the side of the road flipped it’s headlight on, with its beams pointed directly at me. I was suddenly in the spotlight, urinating behind a bush in an unfamiliar town at midnight. My mind began to race again only to come to the conclusion that I was going to finish…I had been waiting over an hour for this moment and I wasn’t going to be cut short, with or without an audience. And honestly, what else was I going to do at this point? When the bottom of the barrel was drained (as a former nursing home patient used to tell me), I grabbed the top of my pants and in one swift maneuver, I jumped up as I yanked my pants up and sprinted to my car that was thankfully still running. I slammed the car door and sped off as though I had just robbed a bank, spinning around the corner onto the main road again in pursuit of my real destination of E. Washington.

My cheeks were hot as the redness of embarrassment crept up my neck. And when E. Washington appeared two streets down, I felt a wave of horror, humiliation, frustration, and humor all mixed together wash over me. I pulled up to the house and sprinted up the porch steps to my parents who were patiently waiting for me. I could hardly contain myself as the story of my late-night journey poured out in between the fits of laughter. And to this day, this story has lived on in infamy with my family, with threats to be told on my wedding day. And yet I just laugh.