I hate peeing in a cup.
Razors are no longer my friend and quite honestly, being ‘natural’ just makes the damn urine stream all kinds of crazy. Too much information? Too bad. It’s one of the few times I wish I had a penis.
It’s not that the instructions aren’t clear. Wipe/pee a little/stick the tiniest cup they can find near your hooha/pee some more and hope you hit your target. Mostly you don’t, and, most women, myself included, do not find the feeling of warm pee on our hands to be an enjoyable experience.
For some reason, no matter how many times I wash my hands after, I am still grossed out for a while.
And what’s with only giving you one antiseptic wipe? It usually is a woman handing it to me. When I ask for another, why do they have to look at me like I am wasting precious hospital resources. So much for vaginal sisterhood.
Also, why is it so much anxiety to determine how much urine is actually needed. Do I roll the dice, tempt the fates, rebel and only give them the bare minimum? Or, do I exhibit my misguided, overachiever side and fill it to the brim? Wayyy too much analyzing and stress for my fragile psyche.
Remember when they used to have the pass thru in the bathroom, a little cupboard you could just slide your cup into? Shutting the small door thinking, “good, the world doesn’t really want to see the color and clarity of my sample”. Well, that homey touch is gone.
Now, you have to walk around with your warm lil’cup’o’pee in hand, trying to find the obscure little box in which to put it. Here’s a hint: It’s behind the group of people waiting to get their blood drawn and shouting ‘EXCUSE ME, BODY FLUIDS COMING THROUGH’ surprisingly does NOT make them move any faster.
I suppose I just wish that urine collection could step into the 21st century. I also suppose I should be grateful for all medical tests, no matter how inconvenient.