This was an unforgettable event.

We had to take a urine sample from Bright Eyes and get it tested. Bear in mind that Bright Eyes at this stage was not capable of sitting on the toilet and giving a sample. So I rang the collection centre and said, “I’m getting this pyrole test done. But my son’s not toilet trained. What can I do?”

“Easy,” said the girl on the other end. “Just come in and get a special collection bag for it. Then bring it in.”

I went up to Earlwood to get the collection bag. It was kind of cute... you literally stick it on the appropriate place, put on the nappy and wait.

I was worried about how Bright Eyes would react to a bag stuck on his privates however, and decided that the only way I could get it on and keep it on without him ripping it off in a violent rage would be to put it on while he was asleep and collect the wee overnight. Clever me.

We had an appointment to get a blood test done at 9, so we went up all together, wee sample in tow. Unfortunately we were 3 minutes late, so we ‘missed’ our appointment and sat in the waiting room for 45 minutes.

The blood test was a nightmare (holding down, screaming, kicking...) and I was asked to leave the room once I started to cry. So I wasn’t feeling too happy when the nurse looked at my sample and said, “I can’t accept that. It’s not frozen.”

“Not frozen?” said I.

“Yes. It has to be frozen. And is it the second void?” she said.

“Second void?” said I.

“Yes – the second wee of the day. It has to be the second wee of the day,” she said.

No-one told me that on the phone, I thought grimly. And taking my wee sample, I stalked out, prepared to bring one back later.

That day, I managed to catch his ‘second wee’ in the bag. With glee, I stuffed it into the freezer and in the morning I was back with my frozen sample in an esky.

The junior nurse looked at me mildly apologetically. “Um, we tried to ring you, but we’d sent your number away with the paperwork. We can’t accept your sample.”

It turns out this time I had ‘forgotten’ (their word, not mine) to catch the sample in the dark, wrap it in silver foil (shiny side out, dull side in), then freeze it.

I went back. Caught second wee of the day in darkness. Wrapped in foil. Popped in freezer. Drove back up to Earlwood the next morning, esky in tow.

“We can’t accept that sample,” said the aggressive senior nurse. “You didn’t mix it with the acid.”

“You weren’t listening,” she said.

“Excuse me,” said I. “I’ve been listening ever since the first phone call. You’d better tell me EXACTLY what I have to do and I will do it. I have been following your instructions ever since the first day!!”

We went through it twice. Finally, I caught the second wee of the day in the dark, wrapped it in foil (shiny side out, dull side in), poured it into a little container with acid, put the lid on tightly, shook the container, put it in the freezer. And took it to Earlwood the next day.

The senior nurse looked at me. “But it’s frozen,” she said. “We can’t take that.”

“Yes, it’s frozen,” I said - at high volume - it must be added. “It’s been caught in the dark. It’s been mixed with acid. It is frozen, just like you wanted.”

“But... we always freeze it on dry ice,” she said.

And then, defensively, “Well, I’ll send it in, but I can’t promise that you’ll get the correct result. You might be wasting your money.”

Wasting money? What about wasting time? I'll be using a different collection centre next time.