The Midlife Plunge: Incontinence and the Skydiver
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But why go to such drastic ends to freshen up a life's outlook, you may ask. I have noticed a pattern in my life that up to now any inertia that I have ever conquered, has been vanquished with radical agents of change such as having kids or completely running out of money. This time is different. This time I feel my inertia has the need to be physically pushed, as in shoved out the door of a single engine aircraft grinding along at 10,000 feet. I do, however, owe it to myself to think over a few physical possibilities even if I believe the emotional benefits have been all worked through. One of these possibilities has to do with plumbing and not the kind that runs under the house and out to the street.
The male's plumbing, depending on how he lands, is not the only one that can be affected by the duress of this particular risk-taking sport. A well respected incontinence support site claims that up to 12% female would-be free fallers drop out of their sky diving training because of stress induced incontinence. This makes a lot of sense when one thinks of how a lowly, unexpected sneeze is enough to make the crimson rise in many women's cheeks. That abbreviated corridor, the female urethra, can hardly be expected to hold back bladder pressure with 100 % certainty over the years when one takes into consideration how most women's bodies stretch, sometimes snapping back and sometimes not, to accommodate babies, wild hormone changes and weight fluctuations that make up the feminine life.
Fortunately for me, I am a tough enough old bird to not let the fear of peeing my pants get in the way of having a good time. It looks to me like a good wing suit or jump togs could easily conceal adult diapers and let me have my freedom, if that is indeed the direction I choose to go with this whole skydiving preoccupation. After all, male and female astronauts have no shame about wetting their pants. They even go so far as to share the subject of output quantity by naming their diapers MAGs, which translates as maximum absorbency garments. I suppose NASA has a pride thing about their achieved altitudes and outfits, always bigger and better. That is alright. I will happily settle for the regular adult diapers that belong to the surly bonds of earth.
As I write this, I realize I am tilting more and more toward signing on the dotted line and trying out one of those square-shaped, steerable parachutes. For some reason, I am thinking that if I don't have a problem with the idea of wearing adult diapers, I may in fact be more committed to taking this plunge than I had earlier realized. Desperation is definitely a critical element of survival and once again, is about to become this middle aged woman's inspiration.
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