Modesty, humility, privacy...Say what?

It's 90 degrees inside at 8 pm, in the old building on Vermont and Beverly where I co-host my radio show Flipside LA.  My stomach feels like I'm about to explode. I give my co-host, Anna the nod, "I gotta potty" and we try to politely push our guest and producer to leave so I can finally go. They leave but now the key will only open the mens room but I gotta go like 24hrs ago. I'm in recovery from hip surgery and the pain meds as well as the trauma from a major surgery makes even the most clockwork potty party person, get backed up so I've been using holistic nutrition and a special tea to help with the post op back up and it works but in its own time with urgency. 

The men's room it is! I rush into the only stall with a door and my beautiful but very tipsy co-host follows because she wants to continue chatting boy talk. I'm trying to explain the situation and talk her into going into the hallway to avoid my nightmare of embarrassment over the "pottysymphony" about to happen but then I hear the door open.  A guy walks in asking questions in Spanish and then I hear a second guy walk in and Anna is trying to explain to them why she's there and then I hear the door open again and I hear a lot of female voices in the hallway too.  

I'm trying to hold it in, sweating in fear of exploding and could just.barely.hold.it.    Now, I'm just drenched in sweat hunched over in a pretty dress, thigh high compression stalkings, shaking in a tiny stall with my knees touching the door in pain and trying with every fiber of my being to keep the cap on a post operative uncontrollable bathroom horror as 2 strange men, my radio show producer and my tipsytoes co-host are all squeezing into the 4x4 common area of the mens bathroom trying to figure it out in a "who's on first, what's on second, English is my second language and I can't believe this is fucking reality" style.  And then it happened. In that moment of unbelievable relief and sheer terror, every bathroom fear I ever had was met and conquered, head on, face first.  This is recovery. 

It's all so normal now. It has to be.  I go unphased through days of appointments where everyone is basically looking at my crotch and taking hip X-rays which basically shows every person who sees it my "kitty", all while dealing with a lot of post surgery symptoms people don't talk about. 

Since, having my second hip surgery last Thursday I've been combating these secret challenges until I can't keep them secret any longer because pure animalistic necessity replaces privacy, humility and any ounce of modesty I had left. I have no choice but to just let it all go.  It's hard to adapt to when you're use to being an in control person, a very self sufficient caretaker who doesn't trust anyone to help properly and who definitely doesn't want anyone to see her be weak.  Suddenly, I'm shitting my brains out in front of 4 people and don't care because the relief after 24 hrs of not being able to but feeling like I have to trumps the fact that people are not only aware I'm going through this but are now listening.

It's hard to fathom but eventually we should all live in a world where health and well being take priority over vanity and public approval. We need to stop trying to dehumanize ourselves and embrace what makes us and keeps us alive, the good, the bad and even the shitty!