future me

This is not a post about futurising so if you were hoping for that, move along. This is a post about wee and time travel!

the scene

So it’s 6pm on 4 January 2021. If you are reading this in the distant future [why?] the context is that the world is a year into the Covid-19 pandemic; the UK has just left the EU after years of Brexit; we are heading into the depths of winter after a damp squib Christmas not being able to see family or friends; today was the first day back at work for me and Dad as well as being day four of Dry January; and Boris Johnson is expected to announce at 8pm tonight that England is going into another complete, schools-shut, lockdown from midnight.

earlier

It became apparent overnight that Pip is going through a loss of bladder control episode. This has happened before: He needs to wee often but doesn’t seem to feel the usual urge so has an accident with no tell-tale jig or other visual signs that it is about to happen. It tends to last a couple of days before resolving spontaneously so is inconvenient and frustrating but nothing to be worried about. [Strangely, it also seems to be coupled with bouts of the giggles. Not sure what the correlation is and I’m not keen to do the research.] Pip woke me and Dad up at about 3am; needed showering and his bed changing. Another accident at 9am (kitchen corner sofa!) and then again at about noon (brother’s bed!) followed by an al fresco pee while walking the dog at 3pm. Me and Dad had a day full of bed stripping; Pip showering; clothes washing; sofa sorting; and following Pip around the whole time to make sure he’s never not on something waterproof. Dribble patches are a signature design feature in our house so I’ve spent a lot of the day diagnostically sniffing wet patches.

precautions

During a break from work I was fortunate to be able to source a packet of Dry Nites bed mats. I then set about applying these to vulnerable surfaces: I stuck them on the neurotips’ beds; on our bed; on the leather sofa; on top of the existing mat on Pip’s bed (layering!) and set about popping one in between the cover and pad of each of the seat cushions on the kitchen corner sofa that weren’t already baptised. I was on a roll and feeling like I was smashing incontinence when Pip DID A WEE AT THE OTHER END OF THE SOFA, on the biggest cushion of all: the chaisy bit intended for reclining during one’s moments of relaxation. It’s the single most unused bit of furniture in the house. Now with a great big wet patch. It’s 6pm and I’m feeling defeated.

future me* to the rescue!

After washing Pip I set about trying to dismantle the chaisy bit to get the cushion off and then undo the concealed zip to get the cover off. And then the miracle: there is a Dry Nites bed mat attached to the cushion pad, under the cover, and exactly in the right place to have saved the foam from a total soaking. It looks vintage, it’s clearly been there for some time (years!) but how? I’ve zero recollection of putting it there. I can only conclude that future me nipped back and stuck one in while I was washing Pip. Thank you, future me! You’ve made me feel totally invincible and ready to face whatever is ahead in these peculiar times, because you’ve got my back, right? Bring it on, Boris.

*DISCLAIMER: may have been future dad. But I’m equally happy about a future dad having my back!