"We're going to try a new narcotics anesthetic," the doctor warbled, "and you'll feel just great afterward!" I picked up the pen and signed my consent.

The anesthetic mask was plunked on my tightened face by the chipper nurse. "Just breathe normally and before you know it, it will all be over." Not too convinced, I closed my eyes.

The lights shone brightly as I jerked awake from my deep slumber. Thrashing about on the small cot, the surgeon asked "why are you moving about like that?" I thought I said "I feel sick" but no words came out, only softly whispered air. I pointed at my tummy and the kind nurse said "we'll give you something for nausea."

The spinning lights and background voices of recovery room nurses captivated me. I was alive. "Help!" I yelled but only it was a whisper.

"HELP!" Moving only my eyeballs to my left, I calmed as I noticed the vomit pan. Wretching forward, I heaved and heaved. It felt good and bad all at once. And suddenly I was warm. That felt good too.

"Wait!" the warm was wet and with shock and horror, I realized for the first time since I was a child, I had peed my pants.

"I peed my pants" I said to the first nurse who checked on me. She didn't have a clue what I was mumbling. "Don't worry about your voice, it will be very hoarse."

"Now you tell me!" I sputtered indignantly and tried to show my displeasure with my furrowed eyebrows.

"It looks like you have a headache..." and she wandered off.

With a lot of effort, I forced the offending undies off, and laid there with them balled up in my hands, thinking now what? Time to fess up, I guess, and I showed them to the next nurse.

"Nice undies," she mused out loud as she too shuffled off.

The orderlies came to take me to my room and with a couple of fell swoops, deftly managed to wheel me to my new home, as I, all the while clutched my secret.

That's when I found out that the smell of urine does nothing to help with the overwhelming feeing of nausea. Taking the last bit of my energy, I flung them on my bedside table. Too sick and tired to move another muscle, I stayed on my side occasionally glancing at the underwear, marvelling how they remained as balled up as they were in my hands.

The first nurse came by and tried to understand me as I hoarsely mumbled "Danger! Wet underwear! Would you please hide those? Please?" I pointed at the balled little bundle and she smiled.

"Oh, there will be plenty of time to put things away later" as she walked cheerily away.

My first visitor was my dad... alone. This will never do. I'll pretend the underwear aren't there, even though I was sure they looked as big as a barn. I smiled wanly at his greeting. And the good news was when he put his ear right to my mouth, he could even make out a few words I was even saying. Patiently, he spoke softly to me, resting his arm and hand against the bedside table. Yes, THAT bedside table. One time, I could swear his baby finger touched them. Gone! Boy, that was a close call.

Next came my sister-in-law. She would help but the trick was to get her to her me and she had a hearing problem. I pointed at the underwear. She just said "oh yeah" and looked at me. Then I pointed at my lower half.

She said, "No, oh no, that's where I draw the line. I'm not dressing you." I shook my head violently, well at least until I started to get the heaves again. I pretended to make a spraying noise. Finally, finally she caught on. She said to wait a minute, left, and came back with a rubber glove. Gingerly, she kneaded the underwear into the glove. The glove looked like a plumped up little head. "At least this way, it's sanitary. I'll take it home and wash it."

Just then, another nurse arrived. "What exactly are you doing with that?" the nurse demanded of my sister-in-law.

Gazing carefully at the nurse, and without missing a beat, my sister-in-law said in a loud clear voice "why I'm putting on a puppet show for my sick sister-in-law here." With that, she jettisoned a pen out of her purse, drew a quick face on the glove, and started to speak in a squeaky voice.

The nurse looking somewhat non-plussed, as my sister-in-law backed out of the room with her squeaky voice trailing off. The nurse turned her attention back to me and said, "Well, the fingers on that glove did make great ears!" Feeling calm and dry and a little bit back in control, I drifted off to sleep.