To The Bathroom
1. (room) a. el baño (M) I need to go to the bathroom.Necesito ir al baño. b. el servicio (M) Excuse me, where is the bathroom?Perdón, ¿dónde está el servicio?c. el cuarto de baño (M) (formal) They’re having a new shower installed in their bathroom.Van a instalar una ducha nueva en el cuarto de baño.
a. el baño (M) I need to go to the bathroom.Necesito ir al baño. b. el servicio (M) Excuse me, where is the bathroom?Perdón, ¿dónde está el servicio?c. el cuarto de baño (M) (formal) They’re having a new shower installed in their bathroom.Van a instalar una ducha nueva en el cuarto de baño.
Have you ever used your phone while in the bathroom? Well, you’re not alone if the answer was yes. My wife makes fun of me all the time because I’ll spend a little bit longer in the bathroom than necessary. Whether I’m tweeting out to my friends or fixing a blog post, I admit to working on my phone while using the bathroom.
Two players at the NCAA Women’s Championship learned about a strange rule in NCAA golf this weekend: they were slapped with two-stroke penalties because they took cart rides to the bathroom during their rounds. Sarah Cho of Northwestern and Kelly Nielsen of Kent State each received penalties because they’d taken a golf cart ride to the bathroom during the 2017 NCAA Women’s Championship at Rich Harvest Farms, Golfweek reports. Neither said she was aware that she was breaking the rules at the time. The rule in question says that players “must not ride on any form of transportation during a stipulated round unless authorized.” That includes bathroom breaks. Luckily for the players, the penalties did not ultimately affect the tournament’s outcome. “That was my bad,” Cho said. “Of course I feel really bad because it’s a dumb two-stroke penalty, something I could have controlled.”
I’ll never forget the way Dave helped me into the bathroom and onto the toilet. Taking my hands as I rolled myself out of bed, he repeated the words, “slooooow, deliberate.” Walking to the bathroom at a snail’s pace, “slooooow, deliberate.” Taking down my granny panty hospital underwear to reveal an enormous bloody pad and helping me onto the toilet, my face twisting into all sorts of anguished shapes, he repeated: “sloooow, deliberate.” Watching me pee, wipe, stand, flush the toilet, he helped me back into bed, “slooooow, deliberate.”
We all can recall the painful distress from a bad case of the stomach flu or a bout with “traveler’s diarrhea.” Can you imagine this happening almost everyday – all day long? Unfortunately, for some people this is a way of life. They know where every bathroom is in every building in every town they visit. They fear going out of their home because of the sudden onset of stomach pains and an uncontrollable urge to move their bowels; followed by a torrent of diarrhea – sometimes accompanied by blood and mucus. This distress is most commonly due to inflammation of the large intestine (colon) and is called colitis. The cause can range from an infection with a bacteria, parasite, or virus to an allergic reaction from a disagreeable food. And the troublesome agent can come to the colon from the remnants of food flowing inside the intestine or through the bloodstream. When the colitis is short-lived there are usually no serious consequences – and people recover fully. However, there are chronic forms that never go away and are resistant to all the drugs modern medicine has to offer.
Word Origin & History bathroom 1780, from bath + room. Originally a room with apparatus for bathing, used 20c. in U.S. as a euphemism for a lavatory and often noted as a word that confused British travelers.
Recovery from a C-section isn’t pleasant. Managing the pain requires several days of constant medications; for the first couple of days, you urinate through a catheter. When the catheter is removed, so begin the wild adventures of getting into the bathroom and onto the toilet. One of the nurses dutifully helped me take my first trek while my husband was sleeping inches away, contorted on a pull-out chair-sofa. For the remainder of our hospital stay, Dave was the one, often in the wee hours of the night, who helped me navigate across the cold, sterile floor to the restroom.