Sandy Part 1: Evolution of a Huge Bladder

“Sandy, would you like some coffee?”
Sandy looked up from her cluttered desk and politely declined. “Thank you Doreen, but I had better not.” Truth be told, Sandy, along with the rest of the crew working on Senator Hazelwood’s re–election campaign, could definitely use a caffeine jolt as the day continued past 5:00 into the young hours of the evening. With only a week remaining until the election and early polls showing a near dead–heat between the senator and his vivacious challenger, everyone at Hazelwood’s camp was putting in heavy overtime. “Are you sure?” Doreen persisted. “You look like you could really use one.” Sandy sighed. “Yeah, I probably could, but I don’t like to drink caffeine later in the day. It makes me too jittery, and I, we, cannot afford to lose any sleep tonight!” Doreen, shrugging her shoulders, retreated to the break–room to enjoy some half–day–old java, and Sandy, suppressing a yawn, went back to her paperwork.
Sandy had been telling the truth: coffee did make her uppity, at least it did the few times in her life she had indulged, but this was not her main reason for declining her colleague’s offer. Certain authorities had told her at a young age, mostly doctors and her parents, to avoid coffee, tea, soda, and chocolate, because caffeinated substances could upset her “condition.” At eight years old, Sandy had been on a horseback riding adventure with her parents, when something in the distance spooked Sandy’s horse, and she was thrown off as the frightened animal galloped away. Her terrified parents had raced Sandy to the hospital; careful not to move her neck and head from the position in which she had landed. Fearing the worst, Sandy’s parents watched in anguish as their daughter lay comatose for three days before regaining consciousness. As bad as the blow was, Sandy was incredibly lucky not to have had any spinal damage or serious head trauma. However, the accident disrupted the functioning of her pituitary gland, leaving her with a condition known as diabetes insipidus, or “water” diabetes. This rare form of diabetes does not affect the pancreas or insulin levels, but rather does not allow much of the water taken into the body to be absorbed, and therefore it passes right out. From the time of the accident up until young adulthood, Sandy’s life had been water. There were times when she felt she could never get enough, and her parents would have to pry water bottles away from her just so she could get some air. As a result of her almost non–stop drinking, Sandy needed to use the restroom practically all the time. Her teachers, after speaking with her parents, had been sympathetic to her case, and allowed Sandy to use the bathroom as much as she needed, which could easily be several times an hour. The students at her schools, from elementary through high school, had been kind to her for the most part. Many of them knew Sandy at the time of her accident, and her friends would explain her condition to those that questioned her leaving all the time. Being that kids can be so cruel, Sandy was still not without her fair share of tormenters over the years. One girl in particular, a snotty, well–off brat named Traci, always gave Sandy a very hard time. “Why can’t you hold it like me? I never leave to use the restroom,” Traci would snicker. She nicknamed Sandy “leaky,” even though Sandy never had any accidents, and even went so far as to trip Sandy once as she was walking down a class aisle. More than once, Sandy arrived at home in tears because of Traci’s abuse, leaving her mother with the task of consoling her. Despite these instances, Sandy led a normal life and was ultimately a well–adjusted, happy girl.
One Saturday afternoon, all of the students in Sandy’s class grudgingly gathered to take the PSAT, the practice version of the dreaded Scholastic Assessment Test needed for admissions to most colleges. Sandy had always been a very bright student, and, being a good test taker, was not particularly concerned with the exam. The testing environment was set up to resemble as closely as possible the conditions of the actual SAT test. Sandy’s counselors explained that while Sandy would be allowed to use the bathroom without hindrance, an adult escort would be provided to make sure no cheating occurred. In addition, Sandy would not be given additional time to complete the exam, as this was seen by the state as an unfair advantage to the other students. The test contained two sections, math and verbal, and each section was to be completed in two hours, with a 15 minute break scheduled in between. Sandy hadn’t realized just how difficult the exam was to be, and, try as she might, she had to leave the class three times per section, costing her valuable time and causing her to finish barely over half of each unit. Once the final bell rang, Sandy lowered her head and began to sob. Her best friend, Alicia, tried to comfort her, but Sandy knew she had done very poorly. Feeling like a victim to her condition for the first time in her life, Sandy spent the evening crying on her mother’s shoulder. Sandy’s poor mother, not knowing what to do, consulted their family doctor for advice. Since Sandy’s disease was so rare and medical professionals were only beginning to learn how to effectively treat DI, he could only recommend that Sandy work on increasing her bladder capacity by letting it fill and performing kegel exercises. Sandy, upon hearing of her doctor’s advice, decided to give it a valiant effort. Sandy’s bladder was not actually small, in fact it was bigger than average, but simply couldn’t cope with the amount of liquid her kidneys were pumping each minute. Drinking less was not an option, because proper hydration was essential for her organs to function correctly. And it would be an extremely difficult ordeal to challenge the state to allow Sandy to take the test without being timed due to the nature of the politics and bureaucracy involved.
Sandy hated the feeling like she was handicapped in some way, and made it her goal to only leave the SAT during the official break.
Over the course of the year, Sandy managed to build up her capacity so that she was leaving each class fewer and fewer times. Her teachers commended her for trying to reduce her number of bathroom visits, and Sandy found that it was much easier to keep up with her assignments since she was missing less class. The following summer, Sandy continued her exercises and steadily increased the time between each bathroom trip. Shortly after celebrating her 19th birthday, Sandy was able to last an entire hour without needing to visit the toilet. Once reaching the hour milestone, she was certain she could manage to last two hours by the time the SAT rolled around that October. She treated her kegel exercises like she did her studies, very seriously, with perfection being the only satisfying result. With three weeks remaining until the gruesome exam, Sandy was able to last over two hours without peeing. She practiced on old tests to make sure her need to pee wasn’t too much of a distraction, and found that she could just complete a section before her bladder frantically cried for relief. Finally, in late October, the Saturday arrived to take the critical exam. It was a particularly cold morning, and the heating system in the old schoolroom was barely keeping the temperature warm enough to concentrate. At 8:00, the math section of the exam was promptly administered. Sandy made sure she had enough to drink to last until the break, and had downed a liter of water beforehand to make sure she was hydrated enough to perform at her best. By 9:00, Sandy was very much feeling a need to pee. The cold temperature combined with her overall nervousness was playing havoc on her bladder. Fortunately, she was well over halfway done at this point, and could take her time on the remaining questions as well as check over the entire unit before the break. With only 15 minutes remaining, Sandy had finished the test and was almost through double–checking. Feeling like she had done well, she allowed her mind to focus on her now bulging bladder, which felt as full as it ever had in her life. Even though she could have left at that point if she wanted, she felt obligated to live up to the goal she had set early on, which was not to visit the restroom until the official break. After a seemingly eternity, the bell finally rang, signaling that pencils were to be placed down and people were free to leave the room. Sandy and Alicia, also needing to go badly, hobbled to the nearest ladies’ room. Having consumed almost three liters of water since the test started, not counting the liter beforehand, Sandi felt as if her eyes were floating and was sure her bladder would explode. Praying for an available stall, she mouthed “thank you” into the sky as she raced into the middle stall of the surprisingly empty restroom. She removed her undergarments quicker than a flash of lightning, seated herself, and released a torrent of pee that she thought the whole school could hear. To Sandy’s right, Alicia started her own pee, her small, maxed–out bladder producing a slight stream, which she could barely hear over her friend’s monstrous output. After a meager 12 seconds, Alicia finished, breathing a sigh of relief as she re–dressed, flushed the toilet, and left the cubicle. Still hearing Niagara Falls from her friend’s stall, she knocked on the door. “You ok, Sandy?” questioned Alicia. “I…I…had to pee” Sandy replied over her deafening stream. “I STILL have to pee!” Truth be told, Sandy didn’t even feel as if she was close to finishing this much–needed pee, now going on for close to a minute. As Alicia went to wash up, she noticed Traci enter the restroom and occupy the stall she had just left. The arrogant strawberry–blond 18–year–old more resembled a fashion model than a high–school senior, and unfortunately, she knew it. Praising her large trusty bladder, Traci began to pee a strong stream straight into the water below. She was aware that an even stronger stream was spraying the toilet to her left, but she thought little of it. As the second hand of the clock went around one and a half times, however, Traci couldn’t help but pay attention to the incredible noise next to her. Having a bladder as large as she did, Traci was not used to anybody but her peeing for so long, let alone an even more powerful stream. Her friends would always comment on her prodigious bladder when they were together, and would often gather outside of her restroom stall, waiting for her super–long pees to end. Sandy was aware that someone had taken Alicia’s former stall, as she could barely hear her new neighbor’s pee over her own din–rattling stream. After another 45 seconds, Traci’s stream began to lose strength, stopping altogether some 15 seconds later. Traci cleaned up, flushed the toilet, gathered her belongings, and left the stall, only to hear the same violent gushing emanating from the middle stall as when she first arrived. Peeing for two and a half minutes may not have been her best effort, but it was certainly way longer than almost all other girls peed, and she couldn’t help but question the mystery middle stall occupant. “Oh my God, who is in there? You’ve been peeing for, like, ever, and it sounds like a frigging fire hose!” Sandy smiled and blushed simultaneously from inside the stall, recognizing that the voice belonged to Traci, one of the biggest tormenters of her schooling years. Too glorious a moment to pass up, Sandy responded. “Traci? Is that you? It’s me, Sandy! Sorry ‘bout all the noise. I guess my bladder is just way bigger than yours and takes much longer to empty. Hmmm, I suppose this means you can’t make fun of me anymore for having a weak bladder, huh? Unless, of course, you’d like to challenge me to a peeing contest sometime?” Traci, her mouth gaping, stood momentarily in shock from what she had just heard, before leaving the room in a huff. Alicia, who had witnessed the whole event, began laughing hysterically, and Sandy, failing to suppress a smirk, patiently waited another 35 seconds for her bladder to finally finish draining.
Bubba ( email welcome )