My Nation Calls

Today I gave my yearly urine sample for the standard military drug screen. In light of past years difficulties I actively prehydrated. And then prehydrated some more. After an unreasonably long period of time I was finally able to give them what they wanted, and I've never stopped peeing since. I am not sure how much water I drank exactly, but I believe it would be measured in buckets. Or perhaps barrels if we were talking small barrels. I anticipate the urine flow to taper off sometime in early December assuming I don't slip into a hyponatremic coma first. Until next year.

In other news they built an IHOP underneath my apartment. Stay classy, San Antonio.

(And bring me a donut shop...)

The Great Pee Pee Mystery

Today, from roughly 1100 to 1700, I waited for an old man to pee so that I may take it and look at it under a microscope. Around 1715 I was given word that the long awaited urination had taken place. Briefly taking care of other urgent matters, I attended to my wee sometime around 1745 only to find it was nowhere to be found. Some masked stranger had run off with my urine. I asked the nurse, she didn't know. I asked the patient, he said "a doc" took it. I asked my interns, they were clueless. Somebody, for whatever clearly no good reason, had absconded with my wiz. I was upset. Although few will every appreciate this, there are few things more frustrating then waiting an entire day for urine only to have it disappear. Nevertheless it seems to be the running average for Williford Hall these days. Most labs get sucked up by gremlins in the vacuum tubes, most daily radiographs become every other day radiographs by the x-ray tech fairy, and half of our electrolyte panels seem as if the masked stranger himself is urinating in them yielding the wildest most ridiculous and inaccurate of results. Wilford Hall, you're too much for me. I don't know what to do with you.

Someone will pay dearly for the pee, though. Someday I will have my revenge.