A New Place to Go

A second look at my MS/Covid blog, Where Do You Go?

I don’t stay up late enough to watch late night TV.

Actually, that is a bit of a fib. I DO watch Dateline reruns as I try to fall asleep. And it works! Something about Keith Morrison’s voice as he discusses horror and homicide is very comforting to me as I drift off to dreamland.

But that is all I watch late at night. So I misssed this important information live but did catch it in YahooNews recently. It seems that Jimmy Kimmel traveled to Japan and was very impressed with their bathrooms!

I’m sure he liked other things about Japan too, but he really appreciated how clean and luxorious Japanese officials kept the public restrooms.

Being a germaphobe, I could totally relate. I too seek clean facilities whever possible. So much so, that I wrote a blog about it and thought I would share.

Please note that I wrote this in November of 2020 so it may be a little dated Covid wise. But it does get the point across.

Is it weird that suddenly I want to travel to Japan?

Where Do You Go?

I bet my multiple sclerosis readers know exactly what the title of this blog refers to. 

Do I mean where do you go to get a nose swab? 

No. 

Where do you go if you are of school age and not sure if your classroom is in your school? Or in another school? Or outside? Or in your bedroom? 

No.

Where do you go for toilet paper when a pandemic empties the shelves?

No.

But you’re getting closer.

If you read the title of this post and immediately wondered where the closest bathroom was, you might have MS.

Before the pandemic I knew all the best public restrooms in a 100 miles radius in all 5 directions- east, west, north, south, and whatever is over there.

It was something I prided myself on.  When MS took so many other things from me, including marketable attributes- multi-tasking, quick thinking, concise decision making and many others, developing a new skill meant the world. 

And damn, I’m good at it. 

Not only can I tell you where the best bathrooms are, I can map out a route of them for your various travels.

I can tell you which are always clean, which never are and thus need to be avoided, and which will be 50/50 depending on who worked the morning shift. 

(This skill has been fine-tuned by my other diagnosis- germ-a-phobia.)  

I can tell you which places have easy access so you don’t have to encounter someone working at the establishment who might give you the stink eye for not buying anything, and which ones you may want to take in a dollar so you can buy one of the mini packs of Junior Mints, just so you are considered a customer and don’t have to worry about getting kicked out. 

Like with any craft, I developed this skill by needing it; constantly needing to go and needing to go right now.

(Ridiculous MS bladder issues really piss me off!)

I’m so brilliant at this, I thought of turning it into a side business.  You know, a “text me your destination and for $2.99 I will text back your best bathroom bets” type of service.  I was just looking into how to file taxes on my future riches from my new company when everything closed. 

Stupid Covid! 

The last thing I need is another useless skill but, here we are.

At first, personally, it didn’t matter too much as nobody was going anywhere and nobody was going to pay me to map a bathroom route from their kitchen to their living room.  But now that things are starting to slowly open, this mastery could be handy. 

The problem? 

I don’t know how to do it anymore!!!!!!!

Covid 19 has made my knowledge obsolete.

And it’s not even due to the fact that wearing a mask makes your glasses fog up so much you can’t find the bathroom or discern if it’s vacant when you do. 

No, it’s because so many places have restricted use and will no longer let you in for something as mundane as using their public restroom.

I still have to do my errands, one of which is the library, which is now closed.  They offer curbside assistance but the lower-level bathroom adjacent to large print books is no longer a rest room option.  And that was one of my standbys-always clean, fully stocked, kind of hidden, no line.

The problem with that is you would have to walk in, walk across the restaurant, and pass the blocked tables to get to the ladies room.  Nothing says bathroom slacker like climbing over taped furniture. 

The Dunkin Donuts near me is still a needed rest room opportunity except the tables are now taped.  The problem with that is you would have to walk in, walk across the restaurant, and pass the blocked tables to get to the ladies room.  Nothing says bathroom slacker like climbing over taped furniture. 

And the $1 in your pocket is not going to make you a customer.  Nothing in Dunkin Donuts is under a buck.  You used to be able to buy one munchkin for under a dollar but now they are making you buy 5 at a time which will set you back $1.27.  

And don’t fall for the corporate lie- that 99-cent donut special actually costs over a buck when you give Uncle Sam his cut.

I still have doctor’s appointments and their restrooms are available.  But woe to the person who drove me or me, myself if I happen to drive someone else.  You’re not even getting your temperature taken if you are not the patient.  You are welcome to sit quietly in your car while the actual patient is inside the building, peeing away without a care in the world. 

Recently, a dear friend was in the hospital and as her health care proxy, and the person closest to her who could bring her some essentials from home, I went to visit.  Yes, of course, I was very worried about her, and you’ll be happy to know she is much better now.  But the most immediate concern when I got to the hospital was that with the Covid restrictions, I couldn’t get in until 2 PM!!!  It was 12:45 and I was completely stuck.  The hospital was on my list of approved pee zones. 

They were firm, I absolutely could not go in until the approved time.  The only exception was if the head nurse of the floor my friend was on called down and authorized an early visit.  I checked and she was in a meeting- until 2 PM. 

What to do?

I was humiliated as this was supposed to be my area of expertise.

I could see the acceptable bathroom from the front door and thought of making a run for it. But that would mean I would have to get by the front door people, the thermometer people, the greeter people and actually RUN.  It didn’t seem like a potential success.  

I left and thought of my list.  Most of the approved places were restaurants near the hospital.  But I hadn’t yet felt comfortable eating inside a restaurant, never mind using their bathroom.  What a hypocrite that would make me.  Fly in, do my thing, fly out all without breathing through my mask, less any droplets from the unmasked people chowing down reached me. 

Back to my list. 

McDonalds was up.

McDonalds is one of those “depending on the employee shift schedule” zones but as I pondered this, I was getting desperate. I drove to McDonalds and took a look around. I could get to the bathroom easily enough as they offered inside ordering and just one or 2 socially distanced tables in case the weather was bad, you had walked to them, and needed that Big Mac like right now.  I had no choice and used their facilities. And it was one of their good days, thankfully. 

Afterwards, it occurred to me that I still had an hour to kill. And I was hungry.  Where could I kill that hour and deal with the hunger?

I tried to be strong. 

“I’ll take a walk,” I thought.  “Maybe get a banana at a 7-11.”  (Not on the approved list by the way.)

But I was tired of Covid, tired of stress, tired of thinking about bathrooms, tired of worrying about droplets in the air landing on me and making me even sicker than I already am. 

I did walk. 

I walked to my car, started it up and drove through the parking lot all the way to the drive through.  I got fries and a small frappe, a nice rounded out lunch of potatoes and caffeine to help me through the wait to get into the hospital. 

While I munched, I thought about the future.  What could I do now that the knowledge I spent years acquiring was useless? I no longer knew where to go. 

There was one positive.

I didn’t have “to go” anymore. 

At least, not until I got to the hospital.

The first floor down by imaging offers a nice private restroom that is partially hidden by the x ray sign and so is almost always available….