Friday, August 5, 2016

If you like swimming, don't join the Marines

Something very terrible happened to me today. We swam in the ocean for 6 hours, with fins, uniform, combat know, stuff you normally wear on a 6-hour swim. But that's not the terrible part (our team was the only team to finish). The terrible part is that I had to pee. The entire time. And I couldn't. I'm not one of those pee-on-the move types. Maybe the reason our team finished first was because NOBODY LET ME STOP TO PEE.

So I waited until we finally finished (thank The Lord Almighty). I inflated my life vest, clung onto the side of the safety boat, and relaxed my body and waited for 6 hours of pent up pain and misery to come out.

Except it didn't. I just couldn't go. It was like clogged. I reached down and pulled my compression shorts away to relieve some pressure and waited, and finally (thank The Lord Almighty again) I started peeing. But about 3 or 4 minutes into it, it inexplicably just stopped. Like faucet wrenched closed. Like hose clamped shut. Like when you for some god-forsaken reason voluntarily pinch it off, except it wasn't voluntary. The pain was indescribably worse than before. Everybody kept telling me to get on the boat but I was just in the black. Tunnel-visioned. Finally, as mysteriously as before, it started flowing again and I emptied out the rest of my 5-gallon tank.

Then I collapsed into the boat.

No comments:

Post a Comment