The Bedside Chronicles 🚗 Menopausal Misadventures: French Hospital Car Park Edition 🐶

I remember when my bladder used to be an Olympic-level champion. Now it's more like a toddler throwing a tantrum - holding it together is PURE NEGOTIATION.

Two. Whole. Hours. Circling this French hospital car park like I'm auditioning for "The Most Desperate Parking Dance" while my dog looks at me with pure judgment. He needs a wee. I need a MIRACLE.

My 20-something self would've laughed at the current me. Back then, I could dance ALL NIGHT, drive home, and probably solve world peace without a bathroom break. NOW? One sneeze, and it's Depends on commercial territory.

Finally, squeeze into a parking space SO TINY it's basically a car-sized thong, and walk the dog around this pathetic patch of grass. The chilly air? EXTRA bladder pressure. Because menopause isn't fun enough, right?

Pro tip: Menopausal bladders do NOT negotiate. They are PLOTTING A FULL-ON MUTINY. 🏳️‍🌈🚽

#MenopauseMadness #BladdersOfFury #FrenchHospitalAdventures