crop_Paul-Kerensa_photo-adjust.jpg

In this, our fourth and final glance at attending a wedding from a catheter user’s perspective, I should say: I do like weddings really. And I’m not a socially anxious person; I just like to plan. But you tell me about one wedding that didn’t drag on at least an hour too long, and I’ll show you a bunch of tired guests secretly wishing they’d not agreed to share a lift home at midnight.

Like drunk uncles attempting The Macarena on the dancefloor, timings have a tendency to slip. So at weddings, I like to know what’s going to happen and when. Come on, bride and groom, don’t keep us in suspense (and hunger); tell us when to expect dinner, speeches and cake. I don’t want to be just thinking of going to the bathroom, only to find ninety minutes of bridesmaid-thanking and groom-embarrassing stands in the way.

At this recent wedding, my dad was there too – and he actually prolonged my bladder endurance, by helping drag out the speeches, making me suffer more. How? Why? Because of a stupid sweepstake. Our table took bets on how long the speeches would last. Everyone put a buck in the middle, and wrote down their guesses for the combined time-span of wafflings from father of the bride, groom and best man. And they went on, and on... passing everyone’s guesses except for mine and my dad’s. I guessed a total of forty-five minutes. My dad guessed longer than anyone, at forty-eight minutes. As my stopwatch ticked past forty-five, and as my bladder ticked well past toilet o’clock, it looked like the best man was wrapping up. If he finished as he planned, I was set to win...

My dad wasn’t having that. So while we all willed the best man to finally sit, my dad started heckling: “You haven’t thanked the bar staff!” The best man blushed and gave a quick thanks to them, before my dad chimed in again: “And how about applause for Aunty Gloria?” Indeed yes, we all were glad Aunty Gloria had made it along today, and she gave a little wave, and my bladder gave a little sigh, and the stopwatch trundled on towards forty-eight minutes.

My own father. The big cheat. I hope the eight bucks was worth it.

So here’s to the happy couple, and to all future wedding days. And when I’m best man at a wedding next year, I’ll be keeping my speech mercifully short. At least, I will if I’ve not managed to get to the bathroom beforehand...

The opinions expressed here are of a personal and anecdotal nature, and are in no way a substitute for professional medical advice. You should always consult your doctor or nurse if you have any questions.

Adjusting to cathing can be tough but you don’t have to figure it out alone. Talk to a member of the me+ support team today on 1-800-465-6302.