This begins with pee

It's taken urine to get me to begin writing this piece. More specifically it's frustration that's brought me to this computer keyboard to tap out these words; little staccato hits of the keys and I'm sending my thoughts to my computer screen.
I'm in a relationship with a man who has cerebral palsy. He's a spastic quadriplegic with pretty good speech, gross motor-skills and an amazing personality, but he has a complicated relationship with his body and this morning he was having a battle with his bladder.
He's been asked by his doctor to submit a urine sample; a mid-stream urine sample. For a man who has issues controlling his body, this is like asking for the moon.
We left the doctor's office and went down the hall to a lab to give the sample. We were in the laboratory's lavatory for 35 minutes, with no luck in getting that pee in the little plastic container. This morning was attempt number two. I thought we had set the stage just perfectly: he hadn't peed since before bed some ten hours earlier, we took care of other morning tasks first (breakfast, dressing, teeth brushing and even a bowel movement). Now we were ready to get that pee sample.
It started off OK. We got the first part of the pee in the plastic portable urinal we use every time he pees, but stopping in midstream to switch to the plastic cup was where the plan withered and dies. The bladder was not willing to cooperate and we sat in the bathroom for another twenty minutes with no urine action.
Our plan had been thwarted by an uncooperative bladder.
Frustration set in and the attempt to capture a sample was aborted.
We've been successful in the past to get a mid-stream urine sample. In fact the first time was so easy it set us up that this time would be a breeze.
Here's the kicker about living with a person with an unpredictable body, it's unpredictable.
Something that was easy before can become a task, an insurmountable obstacle.
On the odd occasion we've gotten little surprises.
The first time I was with him when he gave a blood sample was down right frightening. The poor lab attendant and I had no idea what to expect.
I stood back as this unsuspecting woman went to jab the needle in his arm. Out of reflex he pulled away, the needle came out and blood splattered in a small radius around the fresh wound.
The attendant looked at me with shock, 'You needed to warn me that would happen!'. I told her I had no idea what would happen. On the second attempt I firmly grabbed my boyfriend's bicep and held his arm in place so the woman could do her job.
But what to do about a bladder that's hidden away and decides when it's ready to vacate its self?
His bladder is also prone to spasms. In fact you can feel it jumping rhythmically under the surface of his skin. There's an easy solution for this. Run a really warm/hot bath, submerge my boyfriend's body in the water and soon he's relaxed enough to let go of the golden liquid from within.

My intention with this medium is to turn up as often as I can, possibly daily (but don't hold me to that), and write about my relationship with my partner and our relationship with cerebral palsy. I'll be referring to my boyfriend by a nic-name I gave him when we first met, Bug. I look forward to continuing this virtual, digital journey.
Until the next time...