What is it about pee that is so gross? Just the word alone is funny – it blends beautifully with “fart.” But unlike its gaseous counterpart, it is a liquid, mostly water really.

If you think about it, in a worst-case scenario – I’m talking life or death – you could drink it. It holds some answers as to what is going on in our bodies. What comes out is a roadmap to what is going on inside.

My Labrador retriever, named Bullet, has been having some health issues recently, so I took him to see the vet.  He got a blood test, but these trained professionals were not able to get a urine sample from a dog, leaving me with the task at hand.

Early one morning, I took Bullet out for a walk and his morning constitutional. I followed close behind his behind, bent over with the pee cup at the ready. At each favorite bush he stopped and sniffed while I was poised to capture the golden shower, only to be taken off the scent when he would move on to another bush.

“Oh, come on,” I whined, “my back was killing me.”

Finally, with his leg raised to make his mark on the world, I positioned the cup and captured it all. Success, I thought, but with his sudden shift and a shake, he bumped into me sending the cup and its contents to the ground. Luckily enough, I snatched it up, rescuing a small dribble of a sample.

My children, Sam and Lindsay, were so grossed out by the idea they refused to help me.

“You know you have to pee in a cup when you get your physical tomorrow,” their brother Jack joked.

“What?” Sam questioned.

“No, you don’t,” I said, “he’s just teasing.”

Well, imagine my surprise when we went to the doctor. Panic pulsated through their veins.  “I thought you said we didn’t have to pee in a cup!”

With heads hanging low, they trotted off to their respective bathrooms. After five minutes, Lindsay triumphantly reappeared in the waiting room, which was now filled to capacity.

Minutes passed and no Sam. I texted him to make sure everything was alright.

“Here, Mom,” Sam said standing before me.

Habitually, without looking away from my phone, I reached up and grasped the cylinder. It felt warm against the palm of my hand. Suddenly, I was reminded of Bullet.

“Aaahhh!” I screamed, almost dropping it to the ground. “Sam! Don’t give it to me.”

“NOOO! You give it to the lady, not Mom!” Lindsay’s high-pitched scream got everyone’s attention in the waiting room.

“Oh, I’d stopped listening,” Sam shook his head.

Lindsay rolled her eyes, “You should really listen all the way through, you might learn something.”

Everyone in the waiting room scrambled for fear the contents might accidentally spill on them. With masked faces, I could see the horror only in their eyes.

Pandemic be damned at the fear of a young man’s urine. Social distancing was abandoned as twenty people hobbled, ran, rolled, pushed and prodded – anything they could to get away.

In the end, both Sam and Bullet needed allergy medication, which came in the same brown medicine vials, presenting infinite possibilities for confusion.

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