Springing a Leak: Doing the In-Continental
By Carey Christensen

2004 was my third PAN Forum. The lobby of the Marriott Metro in Washington DC bustled with delegates; the bar buzzed with gin-and-tonic-fueled conversation; the elevators captured whispered comments and sideways glances, while the ballroom glowed with the megawatt brain power of invited panelists. Outside, the cherry blossoms were fragrant and fulsome.

The Forum was memorable for all that. But I will remember it more because it marked the first time I talked openly about, dare I say it? – incontinence.

It was the first evening, Saturday, after the PAN State and Congressional Reps appreciation dinner. Several of us retired to the bar, after which some moved on to the lobby for more conversation in a less boisterous environment. While I continued talking with friends, my roommate, Paula, decided to turn in, taking our only room key. Shortly thereafter our confab broke up. The elevator opened on the 9th floor, and I said goodbye to the others, located my room and attempted to rouse Paula from an incredibly deep slumber. It suddenly dawned on me that I needed to pee. No response from Paula as my gentle tapping became all out banging. What to do?

I headed for the 6th floor and the room belonging to Peg and Carol. I rapped on their door, my legs crossed against the inevitable. Absurdly yelling "HURRY UP" to my slow moving friend within, I heard her struggling to remove the chain lock. Dancing the In-Continental in the hotel hallway, I prayed no one would walk by, and was in the full crouched position, soaked to the knees when the door finally opened. I tumbled in and over a bemused Peg, struggling to get my pants down to allow the few final drops to fall in the appropriate receptacle. Peg said, "I'm glad you stopped by. I told Paula I'd give her these," and she handed me a bag of … Depends.” We collapsed with laughter.

The real breakthrough occurred the next evening – when I decided to share the story during the cocktail hour. Although the ultimate humiliation, just thinking of myself trapped in the hallway, peeing my pants, frantic to get in a door that was operated by a sleep deprived, off-meds Parkie made me giggle – it reminded me of "I Love Lucy," and was too good to keep to myself.

So I spilled it – and discovered that I wasn't the only one with a story (one friend told her tale of leaving a restaurant in the middle of dinner to buy replacement jeans – she now keeps them in her car for emergencies). It was good to talk openly with people who had similarly suffered – and even better to be able to laugh about it.

The PAN Forum is always memorable; the keynote speakers are inspirational, the researchers are available, the information is fresh, and the opportunity to influence lawmakers is invaluable. But the true heart of the Forum is connecting with other members of our tribe and being comfortably immersed in a community of people who understand.