Home > Health, Random > Ever have ‘one of those days’?

Ever have ‘one of those days’?

(Editor’s note: This is a republish of a post Sam wrote quite awhile ago. It’s widely considered one of his most disturbing, yet funny, ever. He felt the need to share it to the next generation of followers.)

Ever have one of those stretches in your life where it just seems like nothing is going to go right and your life, as you know it, is over. Welcome to the last 15 minutes of my existence.

As many of this blog’s readers know, I’m not real bashful about talking about things. I’m open, honest and pretty darn straight forward. But what I’m about to reveal is worse than anything I’ve talked about so far and, for some, it could be rather disturbing.

I went to lunch today with some friends who were taking another friend out for his birthday. I don’t mind trying new places. In fact, I used to love it, but a few years ago after I had my gallbladder removed, I developed this thing called “dump syndrome“… hold that thought because what just jumped into your head is exactly right.

Thank the gods for toilet paper...

This usually only strikes me now and again and it appears to be totally random. I can eat pork chops for a week straight and be fine and then one day after eating pork chops (like 1/2 hour to an hour after) I will suddenly have horrible cramping in my stomach and intestine and then I have to, uh–pardon my French–shit. I mean SHIT, people. Diarrhea has nothing on the liquid farts that express their way out of my anus. It’s basically pure bile, used normally in the digestive system, and chunks of whatever I ate. I know… make sure to chew things really well.

Normally I can feel these coming on and get to a place where I need to be. Sometimes, however, it’s very, very sudden and I have to go NOW! With some concentration, I can usually make it to where I have to be and be safe. Sure, there have been some very close calls, but mind over matter, right?

But what about when God throws you the curve ball?

I’m sitting at my desk at work following lunch at this place I’ve never eaten. I order the steak sandwich, which is pretty common for me and an easy one to digest. However, this place serves it on potato pancakes and with this strange sauce and bacon all over it.

I complain about the lack of bread (my thoughts already wandering to how my body will react to these potato things) and after my friends rib me a while about my bitching, I go to work on the sandwich. It tastes great and I polish it off without a hitch and then head back to the office.

I sit at my desk, start working and I get the urge to sneeze. I do. But it’s not just my nose that things try to leak out of. My ass clenches tight and I get this wide-eyed look of horror on my face. I’m 200 yards from the nearest bathroom here and the near-miss of shitting my pants was warning enough that I don’t have much time to get to a toilet.

It’s a mad scramble. I’m practically sprinting through the halls here, knocking people over and sliding around corners as I scream “WATCH OUT” to the poor, innocent souls in front of me.

I burst through the bathroom door, sweat beading up on my brow, and stop in sheer terror. Both stalls are in use. Panic screams through my mind as my stomach gurgles (I’m not kidding) and the pressure threatens to explode.

I lean back against the sink, gripping the counter in a death embrace. I know if I relax one muscle in my body, there’s going to be some explaining to do.

I breathe deep and controlled. This is practically Lamaze class for me at this point with an emphasis on DO NOT PUSH.

I see feet shift under the door of one of the stalls and then the toilet flushes. A man who I have seen around but don’t know his name steps out.

“I saw you through the crack in the door and it looks like you can use this more than me,” he says with a laugh. I don’t respond. I just shove him out of the way and dive head-first into the stall. My blue jeans practically come off like Velcro pants as I rip them away and my anus screams out a battle cry as I slam myself down onto the toilet seat.

My arms flail wildly and my legs kick out as I explode. I claw at the walls of the stall like a wild animal trapped in a small cage. My life flashes before my eyes for a second. It seems so short to the eternity of what is happening to me at that moment.

Instantly the smell assaults me (these things REEK!!!!) and I’m nearly gagging as my eyes fill up with tears. Whoever said a skunk doesn’t smell its own stink has never been in this situation.

Suddenly, the guy in the stall next to me catches a whiff (he’s had to have heard by assault on the toilet this entire time, too) and I don’t think he even bothers to wipe and flush as he yanks up his pants and crashes through the stall door, nearly collapsing as he exits.

I have to bite my lip as a guttural scream forms in my throat and I force it back down with one final push for freedom.

Exhausted, I slump against the wall of the stall. I’m in pain, but happy it’s over.

People wonder why I don’t eat lunch or breakfast. This is why. This is a warning to all dump syndrome and irritable-bowel syndrome sufferers: If they make a plate different than what you KNOW you can handle, send it back. You might not be as lucky as I was.

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  1. Kim
    March 30, 2010 at 6:11 pm

    Oh my God! I was wondering when this might reappear. It’s as funny as ever 🙂 And makes me glad I do not have IBS, colitis, dumping, or any other digestive issue! Also I am not at all hungry anymore.

  2. Jennifer Wikstrom
    March 30, 2010 at 7:05 pm

    Well now I know how to keep my diet, just come back and read this blog post. 🙂

  3. Kim
    March 31, 2010 at 9:35 am

    LOL Jennifer, Exaaaactly.

  4. Mark
    April 10, 2010 at 1:52 am

    You didn’t mention grabbing the handful of paper towels and soaking them for cleanup before going in. (Don’t you hate the air dryers?) And man, that smell. I could send around written apologies to everyone I offended. Take some Caltrate with D (no magnesium) with every meal. It may stop this for you.

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