During the winter, I tend to go for stodgy comfort foods, and my diet goes out the window. This combined with my monthly cycle tends to leave me rather constipated. I try to eat plenty of fruit and fiber, but even so I get the occasional stubborn bowel period.
My flat mate has IBS, so she regularly pops laxatives to keep on top -- something that I had never done. Well, in desperation, after three days of no movement, I asked her if she had anything to get me going again. She is almost a world authority on laxatives, having tried most every preparation at one time.
She gave me a pack of Dulcolax Perles, something new that she said she found quite effective and gentle (i.e. didn't give her any embarrassing sudden urges). I read the instructions and dosage. She said she normally takes two or three from a maximum dose of four and gets a comfortable movement or two. Being fearful of a hard poop problem I took the full four before bed and hoped for results in the morning before leaving for work... just like the TV ads.
The following morning, my flat mate was up and showering before me as usual. She finished and I passed her as I headed in for my shower.
"Any movement yet?" she asked as we passed.
"Maybe a twinge or two," I replied, though there was no real sign of the promised relief. By the time I was done showering and make-up she was heading out the door.
"There's fresh coffee in the kitchen!" she shouted. "That should get things moving."
I grabbed a cup of coffee and headed to my room to get dressed for work. Well, half-dressed and several sips of coffee later, I got the feeling like a bowling ball slowly rolling across my stomach just below my ribs. This was closely followed by an urge to pass wind and a dull cramping feeling in my bowels. Finally I sighed and almost skipped into the bathroom for relief, pleased to have the place to myself. Tights and underwear down, I sat; the instant my bum hit the seat I was rewarded by a luxuriously soft stream of poo, no hard painful lumps, no diarrhea, just an almost constant muddy flow. The relief was incredible. I almost phoned my flat mate then and there to thank her.
Much cheered and much lighter, I finished up getting dressed, drained a second cup of coffee, and got ready to go out the door. Suddenly something happened. The feeling in my upper bowel returned, yet this time with a gurgling rush. The arrival of a liquid mass in my lower bowel followed instantly. My sphincter burned and I gasped, clenching every muscle in my abdomen to resist the inevitable outpouring. I half-staggered with little steps back to the bathroom, hitching up my skirt and dropping my tights and panties in one move. Almost hovering over the bowl, I let loose the runniest stream of diarrhea.
Thinking that there can't be anything left in me, I decided I must get off to work. The laxatives certainly did their stuff on me, though a little too well.
I got to the Tesco car park near my office fifteen minutes later. My stomach was churning ominously and I was still getting the odd twinge of my sphincter -- I was not sure if it was wind or something more urgent. I parked the car on the top floor (always easiest to get a slot), grabbed my bag, and got out of the car.
The instant I got out and stood up, all hell let loose. My bowels raged and gurgled, the pops and explosions visible trough my blouse. I needed the ladies' NOW! and I was a five floor lift ride from the public loos on the ground floor. In horror at what might happen I trotted carefully to the lift, dancing with clenched cheeks, beads of sweat on my upper lip.
The lift arrived, and as I stepped in I felt a sudden warm rush between my cheeks, spreading slowly down and up toward the small of my back. The instant odor of what seemed like farmyard liquid manure hit my nostrils.
I prayed that nobody would get in the lift on the way down. I was lucky on that score, at least. At the ground floor I exited the lift with horrified, beet red face, and took little baby steps to the ladies' across the lobby, praying not to loose down my legs as liquid poo was swishing in the seat of my tights.
I made it into a cubicle and gingerly pulled up my skirt and slid down my tights and underwear for the third time this morning. They were soaked, but to my surprise the liquid was almost clear, just a browny tinge with bits of tomato skin and nuts dotted in the mesh. Yuck!
I let loose a couple more rounds of liquid poo before cleaning up as best I could, dumping my soiled tights and panties in a tightly wrapped ball in the sanitary bin.
I have never had such an embarrassing or horrifying event happen like that before. The total loss of control was worse than having holiday tummy. I was able to get some wet wipes and a two pack of cheap panties from Tesco, and returned to the loo to clean up properly. I was loose for the rest of that day, and the following day, too.
Later I phoned my flat mate and told her. She laughed like a drain. It's the last time I'll take laxatives!
-- Sally B.
