The Hospital Outing - Part 2

Sister Loraine’s Story
Loraine was the nursing sister who had organized the outing. In her late thirties, average height with a trim, rounded figure with short blonde hair she was the image of efficiency you would expect for a senior nurse. On the outing she had been wearing a rather short, tight–fitting fawn skirt.
“Everything went really well all day until the last hour, when it was difficult to get some of the nurses out of the pub, and we were late leaving. The driver started complaining about having to work late, an attitude which annoyed me, so I rather abruptly told him that if he turned up in St Luke’s A & E needing treatment, he would expect us to work overtime if needed, so he could do the same for us. He shut up then, but was clearly still far from happy. Another five minutes and we were away, and I could not resist telling him he had been making a big fuss over a measly ten minutes. By then we were most definitely not friends.”
“After about 20 minutes, I wanted to go to the loo. All the fuss with the driver; I hadn’t realized how much time had passed since I had last been– before I started trying to get the nurses out of the pub, and when we actually left. I really should have gone back for another, last minute precautionary pee just before we left, but that would have upset the driver even more. I had been drinking lager shandy all night, as I thought that I would not get drunk if I stuck to a high volume drink. Most of the nurses had been drinking lager or beer, as it was cheaper, so I wasn’t going to be the only one who needed a loo. After the row with the driver, I dared not ask him to stop so all I could do was to cross my legs and let someone else do the asking. I wasn’t desperate, just uncomfortable, and it was a matter of putting up with the discomfort for a bit longer.”
“ My bladder seemed to be filling up at an alarming rate, so in the next twenty minutes I went from just being uncomfortable to wanting to pee really badly. I had crossed my legs really hard and I kept telling myself that I had to wait longer, which I could easily, but in some discomfort. When it came to it, I had no choice, if I could not ask the driver to stop, then I had to wait until someone else did. There had to be others, particularly some who had drunk more than me, who wanted to pee more than I did, and surely one of those would soon be asking the driver to stop at a loo. With luck most of the drink had already gone through me, so I hoped that I would not get much more desperate. I asked myself whether I really could last out the whole journey if we didn’t stop, and I thought that I could if I really had to. I crossed my legs as tightly as I could and leaned back in the seat to put the minimum pressure on my bladder.”
“After another quarter of an hour I wasn’t so sure I would be able to wait all the way. I was just getting steadily more and more desperate, so even though we were less that half way back, my condition was becoming really serious. My legs were crossed as tightly as it was physically possible to do so, and on top of this I was clenching my bladder shut. I could actually visualize my thighs and pelvis all squeezing together to keep the outlet from my bladder shut. I could not remember when I had last wanted a pee this badly, but I told myself that I had no choice but to hold out a bit longer. My stomach was starting to ache, which was another symptom of how badly I wanted to go. I could not believe I was the most desperate on the coach, and if the other younger nurses could wait, then I could as well. I had quite a reputation at the hospital for having an iron bladder, and also for being intolerant of nurses who wanted the loo between their breaks, so I did not want to be seen as the first to want to go. In fact, I was absolutely determined that I would not be the one to initiate a stop, my image of a strict Sister would not allow me to.”
“I tried to see where we were, so as to know how much longer I would have to wait if no one made a move. When I realized how far we had to go, I did start to worry. It was going to take at least another hour and a half to reach St. Luke’s. I didn’t want to think about having to hold out that long, and for a moment I thought of going to go up to the driver to ask him to stop, then I checked myself. No, I could not be the first girl on the coach to need a loo. I was a senior Sister, so I had to set an example to the nurses. I was also proud of my bladder control, so it wasn’t going to be me who admitted they had drunk too much and had to stop the coach for a loo. What if the driver just pulled into a lay–by, could I let everyone see me squatting by the coach? The thought of this was worse than my need for a loo, and gave me strength to hold on a bit longer. I knew that I was not the only one to want a loo, nor could I be the worst. What I could not understand was how anyone could be much more desperate that me and not be begging the driver to stop.”
“I looked round the coach, trying to see who else looked desperate. There were quite a few girls with their legs crossed, but no one stood out as being really bad. Was everyone the same as me, trying to hold on until someone else stopped the coach? My stomachache was becoming worse, and I knew it was due to the pressure in my bladder. This was a classic symptom of a bladder reaching the limit of its capacity, the start of the time when the bursting pain eventually became so bad that you could no longer stand holding it back. Worse, I could see I was starting to bulge in the bladder region, even with a tight skirt to hold it in. For that to happen, my bladder had to be stretched, distended, almost to the limit. The thought that I might actually let go and wet my knickers was inconceivable; I had to hold on, because surely we had to stop soon. I kept telling myself that other nurses must want the loo even more than I did, and that they were on the verge of stopping the bus. If I could just manage to wait another five minutes we would stop. I looked at my watch, and told myself that if nothing happened in five minutes, I could think of asking the driver to stop.”
“Nobody did make a move, but also I was still managing to hold on, so I stopped myself thinking about being the one to ask for a stop.
My bladder ache was becoming agony, the bulge noticeably bigger, and I was certainly willing squat by the coach and pee just so long as we stopped as soon as possible. I tried leaning forward a bit, both arms across my bladder, which helped a tiny bit, but also make my condition more obvious. I would wait another five minutes, even ten perhaps, and by then surely we would stop. If not, perhaps I could make some excuse about feeling sick to get the driver to stop and still preserve my iron bladder image. The sheer need to pee was becoming so desperate that going was becoming the only thing I could think about.”
“Somehow I survived the next ten minutes, and even though I wanted to pee even more by then, I was still just about managing to hold it back. I could not understand why nobody else seemed to want a loo. How could anyone be anywhere near the state I was in and not ask about a stop, unless they had some reason to try and wait. If I wasn’t a senior nurse, and had not had that row with the driver, I would have been asking for a stop some time ago. I was reaching the point when I began to wonder what would happen if we did not stop, either because no one asked, or the driver refused to stop when asked. If my kidneys kept on working as they had been, then a ruptured bladder was a real possibility. Or would my sphincter just give up and I wet myself? I really did not want to find out which would happen. Never in my life had I ever wanted to go anything like as badly as this. All I could do was to tell myself to wait another five minutes and we might stop anyway. How many times had I told a nurse that she could easily wait a bit longer if she tried? My words were coming back to haunt me now, and I had to do what I had always told others to do.”
“Then, at last the miracle happened! Two young trainee nurses hobbled up to me, both crossing their legs, one almost doubling over while she talked. Sure enough, they were desperate for a pee, they simply had to go, they said, almost in tears, it was an emergency, could the coach stop? I was saved! I told them to tell the driver, as no specific stop had been arranged, but that he would stop as soon as someone wanted to.”
“I had expected that the driver would stop almost at once, but he kept going for at least another ten minutes. He was looking for a proper loo, and was not going just to stop anywhere. Did he know how desperate some nurses, including me, were? Thinking we were going to stop had made me want to go even more, and I had to fight with all my strength to wait. I was not alone in my agony; I could see one of the two trainees was doubled over, both hands pressing between her legs. I was more than ready to go almost anywhere as long as it was not too public, and would not have had any problem going by the side of the road. I was about to go and tell the driver this when I saw a sign for loos, and then the actual building next to the lay–by that we were stopping at. Because of this, I was third off the coach, after the two trainees, who were almost climbing out the window by then, just taking time to announce there was a toilet stop if anyone needed to go.”
“There was no pretense any more. The other two were running for the ladies’, both holding between their legs, and I would have done the same except that my skirt was too tight to let me hold myself and my bladder hurt too much to be able to run. A fast hobble was the best I could manage, so the next group had caught me up as I got to the ladies. There were only three cubicles, two were already taken, and I just had to get into the last one. No manners, no pride, nothing mattered except getting into that loo instead of having to queue. I just made it. Shaking with desperation, I was frantically tearing my clothes out of the way so I could pee. Oh the relief! My poor swollen bladder could relax at last. I just peed and peed and peed; I thought I would never stop, I didn’t think it was possible for anyone to hold so much pee. No wonder I had been desperate, my bladder must have been close to rupturing, it was so full. I ignored cries of ‘Hurry up!’ and banging on the door from the nurses outside, I just had to let it all out, even if it took 10 minutes, and it felt as if it did, I was going for so long. It felt wonderful to be able to relax after being so desperate for so long.”
“The scene in the loo was incredible, so many desperate nurses, some holding themselves, some almost fighting to get into a cubicle. A couple of them were in tears and holding themselves with both hands, they were so desperate, but nobody would give way and let them go first. One older nurse had pulled her skirt up and was peeing into the sink. She was actually peeing through her knickers; she didn’t seem to care so long as she could pee. I think she had wet herself trying to run to the ladies, and nothing mattered to her except going as soon as possible. Other nurses were so desperate that they were using the cubicle in the gents, or even squatting round the side of the loo, as they had not been able to wait in the queue. Seeing what a state they were in made me regret my stupid pride and not taking the initiative earlier and organizing a stop. Well, I had suffered as much as anyone, and there was no lasting harm done, though I am sure I wasn’t the only one with an aching stomach, caused by an over–stretched bladder, all the way home.”
Author’s note:
I think that Loraine agreed to tell her story mainly to show off her tremendous endurance at holding her pee and not saying anything, always hinting that she could have held on for another hour if she had had to. Once she had agreed to be interviewed, it gave the venture an official seal of approval, and encouraged the other nurses to tell their stories.
Paul Tester ( Email Welcome )