I Wiped Front To Back For a Month. Here’s What I Learned.

Ladies, we’ve all heard the mantra for preventing urinary tract infections: drink cranberry juice, urinate before, after, or during sex — I can never remember which — and most importantly, wipe front to back. If you’re like me, you thought to yourself, “Yeah, yeah, yeah. Whatever, doctor, you’re not the boss of me.” But after my last UTI, I figured, what the hell, and decided to give it a shot.

This is what I learned.

Nobody Cares

Seriously, nobody. Not even my mother, who has basically been stalking me since I was born: invading my privacy, taking my picture without consent, and collecting my old clothes, hair, and teeth. The woman is obsessed with me, but when I told her about this wiping experiment, all she said was “okay.” Only, she said it in the tone of voice I use when talking to her. “Okay, Mom, I’ll try that new spray butter,” or “Okay, if the mall ever reopens Glamour Shots, we’ll go do a session together for Mother’s Day. Sure. Okay. Sounds like fun.”

It’s Weird

It’s incredibly awkward, like trying to brush your teeth left-handed or writing while looking in a mirror. It was a bit creepy, too, as if I was letting a stranger do it. Call me old-fashioned, but I’m not interested in turning every trip to the restroom into a 1970’s key party.

It’s Confusing

There is no natural stopping point. You have to know when you’re finished, and that’s not as easy as it sounds. I’ve tried it over and underhand, and neither way made sense. My arms are on the short side, so I just kept going until my shoulder started dislocating. I don’t envy you if you’re lanky; you have some tough decisions ahead.

Don’t Ask the Internet

After feeling stumped on technique, I made the mistake of turning to Google. The images were graphic and mostly unrelated to my question. And now the ads I’m getting are increasingly bizarre. Yesterday, I was invited to sip cranberry cocktails during virtual happy hour with fellow Charmin Bear sexual fetishists. I’m 90% certain I won’t do it.

It’s a Cure Doctors Don’t Want to Talk About

As one does, after the internet failed me, I called a medical professional. My gynecologist couldn’t get off the phone fast enough. Maybe those true-crime podcasts and Netflix documentaries make me paranoid, but I wonder if she is worried about her bottom line. If we ever get this right, every doctor within a 10-mile radius of a college campus could be out of business.

Being Dehydrated Stinks

To avoid the awkwardness, I stopped drinking so much water. That kept me from making frequent bathroom trips, but it gave me headaches and crepey skin. Also, being dehydrated can cause UTIs, so it’s like robbing Peter to pay Paul. Whoever those assholes are.

Is it Worth It?

After 30 days of this madness, I had to stop and reflect. Why was I doing this? What is the worst-case scenario if I don’t?

Another UTI could move to my kidneys. With the healthcare system overwhelmed by COVID-19 patients, I might not get timely treatment. My kidneys could fail, leaving me on dialysis and begging family members for a kidney. My brother used to spit in his coke to keep from sharing, so it’s doubtful he would give away any major organs.

More likely, I’d be prescribed antibiotics. Too many antibiotics could result in Clostridium difficileen, a life-threatening stomach condition best treated with fecal transplants from relatives. So even if I’m not kidneyless, I could be left begging my selfish bastard of a brother for a turd.

Given all this, I can honestly say it is still NOT worth it. I’m wiping back to front and let the chips fall where they may.