Poopin' Is Cool!
At least that's what it says on the pen I got from some website called ColonBlow.com. (The pen even has one of those yellow smiley faces on it. Does this mean that I should smile every time I go to the bathroom?) I heard about ColonBlow from someone in book club and just had to check it out. I thought, "No way could this be real!" I have one word for you: WAY. They claim that there are up to 10 undigested meals residing in your intestines at any given time. How gross is that?!?! The make their money off of health-conscious folks who feel that a regular, internal housecleaning of sorts is a good thing. A word of warning if you decide to check it out: there are pretty disgusting pictures of actual poop.
So I'm wondering what the fascination is with fecal material? My good friend Lorien had a rather "hands-on" experience with it recently that she so kindly shared on her blog. A comment on that blog mentions a child who grabbed a handful out of his diaper and decided to take a bite. Other children have decided that poop makes great fingerpaints for the walls of their room. One of my former neighbor's kids took a bite out of a dog jobbie that he found on the grass. I've had personal experience cleaning poop out of the bathtub when one of the boys suddenly got the urge during tubby time.
And then there's the story my sister's friend and fellow R.N., Terry, tells of a patient she had once. (Hold on to your shorts, folks, this is a good one.) The lady was old and senile and was convinced that she was pregnant. Every time she had a bowel movement, she'd wrap it up in toilet paper and hide it in her room somewhere. These bits of shit were her "babies" and she would become distraught if anyone took them and threw them away. One day Terry was taking care of her and trying to secret these little bundles into the trash can. She was pretty thorough in her gathering attempts, but she could still smell poop. She bathed the lady, changed the sheets, and did everything she could think of but the smell wouldn't disappear. Terry had her coworkers check her over to see if she had somehow gotten a stray smear on her, but they saw nothing. When she got home and could still smell it, she had her husband check her over again, unsuccessfully. Finally, she decided she'd better shower. When she went to take off her uniform, she discovered something in her shirt pocket. You guessed it: the old lady had tucked one of her "babies" safely inside.
Anyone want some Exlax?
5 comments:
GROSS!!! But I can top it...in Chuck Sheppard's News of the Weird there recently was an entry in which a guy--and apparently there are a few out there who are this weird--whose hobby is hanging out in the bottom of latrines hoping for a good peep/poop show.
I had to wonder--does one wear hip-waders to pursue such a hobby? Goggles? How does one manage to get in or out of the bottom of a latrine. Assuming one could stand the smell, wouldn't lighting be an issue way down there? And then what about clean up? infectious disease? EWWWWW!
(And Lorien was worried about getting a little disinfected off the tree bark.)
Apparently police are not unfamiliar with these wackos (can you imagine being the cop called in to apprehend and haul away the "poop"etrator of such crimes?) and they always have a good reason for being down there...I lost my homework, my watch, my dignity...whatever.
poop-etrator! hee hee!
Ya, Dalene. Thanks for that. Now not only do I have to worry about falling in or having my children fall in, but I also have to worry about some creep-o deciding to reach up and grab or something. But then part of me just thinks, "Knock yourself out--you want to see it that bad? Go ahead."
I really like the phrase "bits of shit." I'm going to try to use it sometime soon.
((Shudder))
A man from my mission told us a story of a kid at an underprivileged youth camp that accidentally dropped his flashlight down the latrine. When his friends lowered him by his ankles to retrieve it, they lost their grip and he fell face first into the hip-deep slurry.
The camp leaders had to get him out using a rope, then hose him down and haul him half naked in the back of a pickup truck to the hospital. I wonder why they wouldn't let him ride up front?
I'm still unaware if he got his flashlight back.
Take it from my 5 month old, Whitney, nothing makes you feel as good as a great poop!
Wendysue,
Thanks for your comments on compulsive writer's blog. Yeah, you and I do share some similarities besides just odd dreams. I have three boys, and I noticed on your blog that you have three girls. (Enjoyed your blogs, by the way, but for some reason I wasn't able to get your site to let me post a comment. Maybe you'll find this one again eventually.) Thanks for posting!
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