Uropathy, or Should We Drink

Uropathy, or Should We Drink Yellow Snow?

That’s right, dear reader: Urine therapy. And, alas, it’s as foreboding as it sounds. A website delightfully entitled “Shirley’s Wellness Cafe [sic]: Holistic Health Care for People & Animals” turned out to be a treasure trove of information on urine therapy for, well, people and animals. We guess that covers Fabio.

This suspicious site proudly touts urine therapy as “A cure for all diseases.” We know what you are thinking, dear reader: Even jaundice? Well, though Shirley doesn’t specify, we’re pretty sure that she’d vouch for urine’s medicinal properties in this case. After all, our friend Shirley claims that a swift swig of the original golden oldie can cure AIDS, Chronic Fatigue Syndrome, Mononucleosis (or what some people in the medical community refer to as “going to college”), sinus infections, &c.

With this impressive record, we’re sure that urine is making the pharmaceutical companies yellow with envy.

Nor is our friend Shirley the only webmisstress hawking this rather unsavory cure for whatever ails you. Rather, a website with the more professional sounding title of “Biomedx.com” offers a disquisition on the topic. The site, in fact, informs us that “Urine is not, as many believe, the excess water from food and liquids that goes through the intestines and is ejected from the body as ‘waste.’” No? No: “It is much different and much more.” Well, we’ll agree that it’s much more—especially when you have to clean it off the floor.

The folks at “Biomedx” helpfully offer a few recipes for imbibing the water we all make. Thankfully, this cleared up a question we had about the process: Can we at least put the urine in a cup before we drink it? We, the crack young staff of “The Hatemonger’s Quarterly,” aren’t sufficiently flexible to swill the stuff without, as they say, a middle-man. Especially the female members of the staff.

According to the geniuses behind “Biomedx,” urine therapy can remedy, among other horrid diseases, the blight known as “hyperactivity.” Okay: We drink a steaming cup of wee-wee, and finally cure ourselves of our “hyperactivity.” That seems totally worth it.

The competent staff at “Biomedx” also points its readers to a treatise by one Dr. A. H. Free, entitled Urinalysis in Clinical Laboratory Practice. Dr. Free—who is, coincidentally, the stepson of the famous I. P. Freely, author of The Yellow River—offers a list of urine constituents that the folks at “Biomedx” claim “will knock your socks off.” Knock our socks off? It should at least knock our boxer shorts off: At least that would take care of one step in the process.

The goodies found in your urine, according to Dr. Free, include: Alanine, Amino acids, Biotin, Iodine, Lysine, and Tyrosine. And, we hasten to add, piss. The Good Doctor Free tells us that urine also contains Riboflavin, which is good news: Finally, we can get our daily dose of the stuff without having to ingest anything as disgusting as “Chex Mix.”

Our friend Shirley proffers even more intriguing information about uropathy. “In India,” she informs us, “urine therapy is called ‘shivambu.’” How very interesting. In most of America, it’s called “crazy.” In Berkeley, CA and Cambridge, MA, it’s called “breakfast.” (Talk about “instant breakfast”!)

If you would like to learn more about urine therapy—and, honestly, who among us would not?—we, the crack young staff of “The Hatemonger’s Quarterly,” humbly suggest you purchase Coen van der Kroon’s learned tome, entitled “The Golden Fountain.” According to our friend Shirley, “Native North Americans, gypsies and Eskimoes are among those cited in his book.” Oh, well, we’re no longer suspicious, then. After all, who would be foolish enough not to take medical advice from the Dutch?

Call us a bunch of truculent homicidal subversives, but we, the crack young staff of “The Hatemonger’s Quarterly,” aren’t entirely convinced by the advocates of urine therapy. We suppose, however, that it couldn’t hurt: After all, it probably tastes better than Diet Fresca.