TMI UTI

Sam and I planned a weekend trip to Quebec, leaving yesterday and driving through Vermont before exiting the U.S. in Derby and entering Canada in Stanstead. From our house, it’s under five hours. We’d bring our bicycles and snacks and the books we are currently reading. But nope.

Because of my penchant for inappropriate oversharing, let me tell you why. I have a UTI. For those of you who have never known one, you have so far dodged what feels like a literal bullet. For those who have, imagine a long car ride with what feels like a bladder about to burst and urethra on fire . Since the cure is antibiotics, which take 24-48 hours to kick in, I’m going nowhere.

But hey, this isn’t just about me and my UTI, but every one of us, and life in general. It’s about family car trips that start with a singalong and end with projectile vomiting. It’s that weekend trip to Vienna that saw you stranded for a week by an Icelandic volcano eruption. It’s the swirling shit you can’t control randomly hitting the fan.

So one moment you’re taking out your suitcase and the next, groaning piteously on the toilet. Welcome to human existence. Nothing insulates us from the possibility of ruined plans. I am learning this lesson (again!) the hard way, along with fresh reverence for antibiotics and the importance of proper hydration.