The Hospital Outing - Part 1

Introduction
Some of the nurses at our local hospital recently held a coach outing to the coast, which was a journey of about two and a half hours. A good friend of mine was on the outing, and knowing my interest in the subject, she told me about the emergency stop on the way back. Even though nurses are reputed to have exceptionally big bladders, a number of them needed the loo desperately as they had been in a pub for some time before leaving. In fact her words were “I have never seen so many desperate women trying to get into a small public loo, and from the time it took for us all to go, I doubt if any coach has ever held so much pee.”
When I asked her for more details, she offered to do better than give me her description of what she saw, and arranged for me to interview some of the nurses who, in exchange for my making a donation to their hospital charity, were prepared to describe how desperate they had been. It says a lot for Jeanette’s persuasive powers that she got four nurses to give me these detailed accounts of the journey.
Part 1 – Trisha
Trisha, an Irish nurse about 30, tall, well built, a ‘big girl,’ with long auburn hair, she was wearing tight denim jeans and a sweat–shirt on the outing. She had only been working at St Luke’s for two months, and this outing was a chance to see more of the countryside, and to meet more nurses. She describes the journey to the coast.
“I was working the night before the outing, so I just had time to change and have breakfast before we left. As usual on a night shift, I had drunk several coffees to keep awake, and had another two cups at breakfast to perk me up. I thought that I could sleep most of the way down to get some rest, but I should have known better than to drink so much coffee at breakfast when I had been drinking it all night. I wanted the loo after about 20 minutes on the coach. It wasn’t too bad at first, just building up slowly as an uncomfortable feeling, but it kept getting steadily worse, and by 9 o’clock it was starting to get pretty bad. I was really aching to go, and I was hoping that we would stop somewhere before I desperate. I crossed my legs hard, which helped a bit, and tried not to think of how much coffee I had drunk.”
“I hoped that we would have a stop about 9:30, which was our normal coffee break time, and also about halfway. Thinking about stopping was about the worst thing I could have done, as I began to anticipate the loo, which made me want to go quite a bit more. As it got nearer to 9:30, so I wanted to go more and more badly. By this time I had crossed my legs really tightly, which was taking the edge of the urge, but I was terribly uncomfortable, my bladder bursting, and really hoping that it wouldn’t be much longer until we stopped.”
“I was trying not to make my need obvious, because there had been some comments, half joking, about how often I was going to the loo on duty, and I did not want to get the reputation of having a weak bladder. Normally I am not too bad, but there are some days when I seem to need a loo about every hour, and I was afraid this was one of those days. Worrying about a coffee stop did not help, but if we did not stop, then things were going to get serious, and I was in for an uncomfortable journey. I certainly was not going to ask for a loo stop– that would have really got me branded as a ‘baby bladder.’ If there wasn’t an organized stop, then I would have to cross my legs and hang on.”
“All hope of any stop soon vanished when we turned on to a bit of motorway with a warning sign ‘No Services. Petrol Only; 19 miles.’ This was very bad news, as I was getting desperate to go, even with my legs crossed, but I just had to steel myself to hang on and hope we would still stop somewhere. To take my mind off my bladder, I tried to join in the conversation around me, doing anything to make the time pass more quickly. Nobody else had made any mention of needing a loo, so I tried not to show that I wanted to go.”
“This seemed to work, because it did not seem long before we were turning off the motorway, and I did not want to go that much more badly. One of the nurses I was talking to she was parched, and why didn’t the coach stop, either at a caf’ or a pub. This gave me hope again, and started me thinking about a loo, which was a stupid thing to do, because I almost immediately wanted to pee a lot more urgently. Suddenly I was really desperate, squirming about on the seat, having to really try to hold myself back. Of course this was only wishful thinking, we didn’t stop, and I had to make myself sit still again before someone guessed why I was so restless.”
“It was beginning to dawn on me that we were not going to stop until we got to the coast, unless someone specifically asked to. I did not want to admit that I had to pee after less that two hours, so I wasn’t going to ask if I could avoid it. Since we were going along at a good rate I hoped I would not have much longer to wait, and determined to hold on if I possibly could. A few minutes later a sign–post told me we had 15 miles to go, which I convinced myself would only take 30 minutes, so I gritted my teeth and told myself that I had to last out. I was more desperate than ever, really having to fight to hold it back, and I tried everything I could think of to make the time pass quicker, and I managed to survive the next 10 minutes without it getting much worse. Being tall, there wasn’t much room for me to cross my long legs, and once they were crossed it was difficult to shift position. The most natural and comfortable position for me would have been with legs apart, but that was no longer an option until I had been to the loo.”
“Time was really dragging, and I was looking for signposts to tell me how much farther we had to go, and after a quarter of an hour I realized it was going to take longer than I thought to get there. Nothing for it, to ask to stop now would be to admit that I could not wait another ten minutes, so I had to hang on. Then we got caught in a traffic jam and came to a stop. From then on we just crawled along, hardly more than walking pace, and I was almost frantic. My bladder was literally bursting, and I wanted to go so badly I was struggling hold back my pee. I was sitting on my hands, and gripping my thighs hard, trying anything to make me want to pee less while not make it too obvious that I wanted to go so badly.”
“We must have been half an hour in the traffic jam, and that seemed the longest 30 minutes of my life. I had no choice but to sit there and make myself wait, and sometimes I wanted to go so urgently I don’t know how I managed to hold on. I was using every trick I knew to help me wait. I simply could not cross my legs any tighter– they were literally tied in a knot. Sitting on my hands helped for a bit, as I could press my thighs together harder, or even try and push my fingers up between my legs. I couldn’t reach my pussy that way, but any pressure there seemed to help me wait. So did pulling my jeans up so they were as tight as possible between my legs, and when a really bad urge hit me, I was pressing a fist against my crutch area, not quite holding myself, but almost as good. Twice, when I was sure nobody was looking, I did put a hand right between my legs and hold myself. That felt so good that I wished I had a magazine or bag that I could cover my lap, so I could hold it all the time. Also I was hoping, dreaming really, that the coach would be stopped outside a public loo, and that other nurses would jump out to go there, so I could as well, but of course it did not happen, and if we had been stopped near one I am not sure, desperate though I was, that I would have had the nerve to be the first to get out.”
“At last we arrived and were parking, and I thought my troubles were over. Sister took ages telling us when and where to meet in the evening. I hardly heard this, as I was frantically looking round for the loos, which I needed to be close by. Instead, it was like a nightmare, there wasn’t a loo to be seen. After so long with my legs crossed, walking made my need to go even more urgent, so I was in no condition to go far looking for a loo. Hoping there might at least be a sign for one, I stood, twisting my legs together and gripping my jeans pockets with both hands and pulling them up hard, while I looked round.”
“Luckily some other nurses were also looking for a loo, so I just followed in the group, because I was hardly capable of independent thought any more. The only thing that mattered to me was keeping my bladder under control until we got to the loo, and it was all I could do to keep up with the group. I simply could not walk normally, I was hobbling along, taking short steps with stiff legs, pulling up my jeans and clenching myself shut. It seemed to be miles to the loo, and several times I almost had to hold myself to keep control. I was having to use all my strength to control my bladder, and I was not going to be able to walk very far”
“When I could finally see the public loo, it was simply more than I could bear, I just had to get there as quickly as possible, and nothing else mattered. I did not care who knew I was desperate, I just ran for the ladies’ in a panic, grabbing at my crutch for the last few yards as running and anticipation made my urge to pee almost uncontrollable.”
“I knew that everybody would see how desperate I was, but I was beyond caring about that. Nothing mattered to me except having a pee, and every second’s delay was critical. Thankfully there were some free loos, as I hadn’t thought to get any money ready, and I don’t think I could have waited while I looked through my purse. I have never pulled my jeans down so quickly in my life, and even then I let go the instant I was sitting on the loo. The relief was absolutely fantastic, the most glorious feeling I have ever had. I just sat on the loo and relaxed, letting it all come pouring out, allowing my poor, overstretched bladder to empty at last.”
“Afterwards, as I expected, some of the nurses were laughing at me, running for the loo, and then having to hold myself. I was quite ashamed of myself for doing it, but I really had no choice, I was so desperate I nearly wet myself at the end. By exaggerating the amount of coffee I had drunk at breakfast, and the sudden urgency of anticipating a pee, I managed to make up some excuse for my behavior. Luckily, nobody had seen how much I had been struggling on the coach, nor had any idea how long I had been waiting, but the fact is, I have not got the capacity that some of the nurses have, and I still have to suffer the occasional remark about having a weak bladder.”
Paul Tester ( Email Welcome )