Dr. Imodium, or How I Learned to Stop Shitting and Hate my Life

m 1+ points - Newb

Just over a year ago, I was summoned to Montreal to attend a seminar for work. I deeply enjoy Montreal (and most of Quebec, for that matter), so the trip is always entertaining. During the wee hours of the night before my trip I was stricken with absolutely abysmal diarrhea -- the kind that makes you truly wonder what manner of sorcery is being conjured deep within the bastion of your colon. I awoke early on the morning of my departure anticipating an unpleasant bus ride and an even worse flight.

Realizing that in a few short hours I had at least five hours of driving followed by three hours of flying, I desperately rushed to the nearest druggist to procure some chemical butt-pluggery. The chemist recommended Imodium, which he assured me would cease the never-ending onslaught of firehose-like acid spray that was being ever expunged from my now sore and bleeding anus. As an alternative, the store's homeopathic advisor also recommended everything ranging from St. John's Wort to strawberry seed extract. Trusting in the powers of medicine more than the powers of magic and fairy dust, I took the advice of the chemist and purchased the rather expensive Imodium to sandbag the flood from the south.

All seemed to be well, as within an hour the violent monsoon of acidic spray ceased, and I was able to catch a morning nap on the extremely uncomfortable bus. I felt great relief about not having to perch upon a stainless steel petri dish of human ass hair, excrement, and a curious blue chemical solution that is reminiscent of floor cleaner, all while being tossed and turned around every corner of this particularly windy highway. Aside from the constant stare of the Lesser Cave Trolls riding the bus with me, my mind was at ease, although I suppose the unwholesome look of satisfaction on my face may have prompted them to think I would soon be raving about the Rapture or trying to bring them to my religion.

I arrived at the airport some four hours early for my flight's departure, so I checked out news on my PDA while tolerating a sandwich of meat composed primarily of raccoon feet and hippopotamus stomach, dotted with lettuce that looked like it had been around for the Reagan administration. I had procured it from a Vietnamese man running a small shop in the terminal, and he seemed insulted when I legitimately could not identify the substance that I was about to consume. As I was hungry, I made short work of the sandwich, and was soon back at the store looking for something on which I could snack while passing time in the terminal. Resorting to food with which I am familiar, I paid the $2,942.41, or other ridiculously inflated price for a sugary energy drink and some potato crisps. Finishing these, I felt the familiar tickle of the sandman's oddly inappropriate touching on the nape of my neck and realized I had nowhere to sleep but on some benches amongst drifters, "skweejee kids," and airport security -- the sentinels protecting my kidneys from being taken as I dreamt of cherries and puppies. I remembered the torrential diarrhea from the morning, and took one more Imodium lest I unleash a tidal wave of mostly-clear-acidic-airborne-feces as I slept.

Awaking to the familiar "Passagers qui voyag..." I realized that the flights to French Quebec were boarding, and approached the security checkpoint. I clasped my laptop bag in my hand, along with the box of Imodium, which had fallen from my pocket as I slept. The guard looked at me with a somewhat disgusted expression upon seeing the chemical butt-plug that I was holding for dear life, and I made a somewhat inappropriate joke.

"Trust me," I said, "this would be a very bad time to give me a cavity search."

Instead of laughing, he inspected my bag with some manner of swabbing equipment and told me to remove my shoes. Finally, he begrudgingly allowed me to board the aircraft.

The flight was uneventful, but notable to the story is the fourteen-month-old chicken cacciatore, composed of a lump of material resembling chicken, reddish sauce, and tinfoil. I ate it coupled with a glass of scotch to ease the unbearable pressure swelling in my cranium from the altitude (and because I was desperately searching for an excuse to drink scotch).

As the story climbs, recall that I have now eaten breakfast, lunch, supper, and snacked several times, and have yet to have a bowel movement. For this I am thankful, as I am deeply sure that my stomach is replenishing the supplies lost from the great diarrhea clash of '06.

Arriving at the conference in Montreal, I was greeted with a buffet of every food one could possibly imagine -- and it was all so good I crammed down meal after meal, making quite a characteristic pig of myself. Following the conference, I had some drinks with co-workers, and retired to my hotel room.

The following morning I awoke to a free continental breakfast, and all was well. Until I arrived at the conference hall, when the unthinkable happened: a sheer, unbearable stabbing pain let loose in my guts, rendering me unable to walk.

I hobbled for the nearest public toilet (which was uncharacteristically clean). I sat down and prayed for sweet release from the agony within. Fearing that a snake, orc, or other vile nether-creature was going to emerge from my button, I sat and braced myself for the coming quake.


Frustrated, and wondering what had happened, I arose from the toilet. The pain had subsided without any matter actually vacating my rear. Moving on, I had another day's worth of meal and drinks and returned to the hotel room yet again.

I arose again, ate breakfast again, and headed for the airport again. By this time I was wondering where all of the food I was consuming was being stored. I was burdened by a constant unpleasant feeling of being full, and by the need to fire torpedoes which were clearly stuck in the tubes despite the captain's repeated orders. Boarding the plane, I felt nauseated and refused the half-cooked beef being passed off as food. I thus spent yet another day, which brought my total to over four with absolutely no bowel movement.

Waking the next morning with about five days worth of food in me, I realized it was time to go to the doctor, as my skin was turning the color of the food I had been eating. My doctor took me immediately, citing my obvious discomfort and pale skin (apparently, my dung has a bleaching quality). This quick attention is rare in Canada, as getting to see the doctor with all of your limbs still intact with less than a fourteen-hour wait is a near miracle.

The doctor quickly reminded me of my mother's allergic history, and stated that likely I had an allergic reaction to the Imodium. It had bound my bowels so tightly they could not be released without a pneumatic hammer. Forgive me, Mr. Doctor, for not asking my mother about the frequency, size, consistency, and allergic nature of her bowel movements -- something tells me she may have been slightly perturbed. In any case, he gave me some manner of allergy medication which he assured me would work quickly, and I headed home.

By the time I got home and finished supper, it had been nearly an hour since I had taken the pill. I was really not enjoying my meal, as I felt there must be no more room within me for food. Then: I felt it. Just as the Japanese knew something bad was coming after Pearl Harbor, I knew that I had awakened a sleeping dragon with fiery breath, and claws bearing the hatred of a thousand worlds.

Before I proceed to tell you, remember that I am now a swollen camel carrying six days' of undigested food in my gullet.

I ran to the bathroom at sub-light speed and perched on the toilet with the accuracy and precision of a brain surgeon. Expecting the "big one," I plugged my ears lest the pop deafen me for life, and prayed that the toilet would withstand the abuse I was about to serve. I felt the swelling of objects moving downward within me, and prayed my organs did not accompany them. As they reached my anus, however, they did not continue out of my now dried up, atrophied, unused exit. I began to grunt -- to grunt and push with such a fury that a normal man would be losing bone mass.

That's when I lost my innocence as a person.

Like a pimple popping on the forehead of a greasy pre-teen, I felt a gastric explosion of gas and shit matter which literally sounded like the blast of a Canadian Forces mortar shell. Following this release came a never-ending torrent of diarrhea and lumpy undigested matter. I felt large chunks expelling out of me with the vigor of mothers fighting one another for the last Tickle-Me-Elmo.

The wave seemed never-ending. My dung piled and fell and splattered and dropped, and my family stood outside the door inquiring as to the status of my health. I wailed like a banshee being circumcised -- a symphony of splats, farts, and loud expulsions blanketed by my endless bloody screaming echoing like a finely orchestrated symphony from my bathroom.

Soon I became horrified by the sheer volume of mass that was continuing to leave me. It was not unlike holding one's urination to see the end of the third hour of a movie at the theatre only to later expel high-powered kidney-sauce for over a minute with a look of horror spreading across your gaping maw. Through the door, my mother begged me in a panic to "PLEASE, FLUSH THE TOILET!"

Although I was being nearly lifted from the seat by the sheer force of the rocket ship, I frantically smashed for the lever and released a torrent of water to combat the hose-spray of dung being hurled into it. I felt the cold and lumpy splatter of crap and water hit all over my lower anal region, covering me in acidy, crappy muck. The resulting splash caused some of the matter to escape and drip out of that little space between the toilet seat and the toilet rim, although the mess was still largely in the toilet bowl.

Finally my colon launched its second and final barrage of crap, which was now pure clear liquid that came out with the force of an exploding fire hydrant. I wailed in pain as though my ass had been literally ripped in two by the sheer volume of shit. Again I flushed the toilet, and the torrent finally subsided.

There I sat, with my insides resembling a torn-up battleground and my ass throbbing. When I wiped, it felt as though I was dragging sandpaper across my eyeballs. Blood soaked the toilet paper, which horrified me to no end, as my family has a history of colon cancer. I pulled my pants up while crying like an infant. I then proceeded to the Emergency Room, citing the blood coming out of my anus as the emergency.

Upon quick examination, it was determined that I had seriously damaged the skin around my anus from the ferocity of the shit. The blood was caused by internal hemorrhoids, which had ruptured. I felt just like a million bucks, I tell you.

As I left the druggists office after filling my prescription of Proctomyxin tablets, sentenced to stuff them into my quam twice daily for two weeks, I looked over at the homeopath and wondered how much more damage a bunch of St. John's Wort really would have done.

61 Comments on "Dr. Imodium, or How I Learned to Stop Shitting and Hate my Life"

doniker's picture
j 1000+ points

I don't play with Imodium.

The few times I did take it, it plugged me up for days as well.

I will only take Imodium if my diarrhea lasts for severel days and I am borderline dehydrated.

Robbie's picture
m 1+ points - Newb

Imodium really messes with me too. It seems to clog me for about 24 hours and then it reverses powers and I am right back where I started only worse.

Fudgepump's picture
l 100+ points

Matthew: you're living proof that what goes in must come out...eventually. I've never taken Immodium, and am now even less likely to do so. If the stuff would only go JUST so far (enough to stop the runs, but not so far that you're bunged up), it would be an ideal product. Unfortunately, the pendulum seems to swing too far...

CaCa Doodle Doo's picture
m 1+ points - Newb

LOL! Believe it or not, I take Immodium every night of my life. I have IBS and take a drug that causes 'rhea and to not take it would risk my pants and carpet on a daily basis.

Just goes to show how different everyone is.

Mary Queen of Scats's picture
l 100+ points

I don't do Imodium...I eat cheese.

Man who stand on toilet seat is high on pot.

Bad kitty! Bathtubs are NOT litterboxes!

Bilgepump's picture
Comment Quality Moderatorh 3000+ points

Like Mary Q of S, I don't so Imodium either I eat....wait for it.....here it comes.....

nah...too easy....

"One of the founding members of the Front Page Hyena Pack, and runs as its alpha male when the urge strikes him, which is often." Daphne (one perceptive chick)

The Thunderous Crapper 63's picture
k 500+ points

But Immodium allows you to cut some of the MOST AMAZING farts ever I think due in part to the reduction of the probability of sharts. You can just lean in and fart to your hearts content! I love Immodium.
The Thunderous Crapper 63 Enjoying home toilet advantage since 2004!


Awed's picture

Never mind Imodium -- this is an AMAZING story. I insist all pooprpeorters who up until now have been talking about the drug append their comment with praise for this spectacular piece of writing. Between this and the Big Fat Feek Wetting or whatever it was, it's been an amazing couple days on PR.

Chip Brown's picture

That story was way too long. Next post remember the following mantra:

Be sincere
Be concise and
Be seated

Oh, and just say 'no' to drugs!

CC's picture

I live next door to Jewish Banshees and we are invited to his son's Bris.Great story I hope your ass is repaired.Poop Report of the Year?

daphne's picture
PoopReport of the Year AwardSite AdminComment Content ModeratorComment Quality Moderatore 6000+ points

I must agree with Chip. This story was a bit much; and by the time I got halfway through it, I was no longer reading every word but scanning each paragraph for its basic idea.

However, the remark about how much airline food costs made me laugh (having spent twenty dollar once on a hot dog, chips, and 2 soft drinks in a Kentucky airport), and it's good to know that the writer is OK now. Matthew must have been terrified to see he was pooping blood. I can only imagine what a shock that must have been. Wordy, but still well-written.

.....hugging bunnies since 1969

.....hugging bunnies since 1969

Deja Poo's picture
Comment Quality Moderatorj 1000+ points

I've never been to a banshee circumcision before, but the next time I'm at one, I'll be sure to listen for the "...symphony of splats, farts, and loud expulsions" through all of the howling. If that won't make a banshee howl, I can't imagine that anything would -- short of a six-day-cumulative, prescription-laxative-induced shit.

(The only circumcision I've ever attended was my own, but I was so traumatized that I don't even remember it. I must have yelled because I can't imagine anyone taking a knife or scissors to any part of my penis without me complaining very loudly throughout the entire procedure. Heck, just the thought of it makes my cock shrink in fear.)

I agree with Daphne: well-written but overstated. (As if I'm one to talk!)
Yo quiero Taco Bell.

Yo quiero Taco Bell.

CC's picture

I was upset at my circumcision because the man who did it took a big tip.

RoboCrap13's picture
l 100+ points

My best cure for the runs:
Microwaved plain white minute rice, lighted buttered, salted, and peppered.
The rice will help draw the extra liquid from your stool.

You have the right to remain Silent but Deadly....

You have the right to remain Silent but Deadly....

Poopa Donna's picture
m 1+ points - Newb

Omigod! What a hilarious story!I l laughed so hard I almost suffered a hernia. Hysterical.
I don't think I'll be tryin' that Immodium any time soon.

Miss Simone Scat's picture
k 500+ points

"That's when I lost my innocence as a person." I giggled at this line alone.

Producing waste since 1967

Producing waste since 1967

Minjee's picture

I feel so sorry for you. Your story gave me tingles and goosebumps! Your brutal honesty was refreshing, funny and entertaining. Hope all things #2 go well for you from now on.
Great piece of literature!
Minjee xoxo

pnuttycorn's picture
k 500+ points

Great story! I don't go near immodium either.
Just drink. it usually gets things moving for me.

DungDaddy's picture
Comment Quality Moderatorj 1000+ points

Oh that was funny. Normally, I can't stand such a long story.

Banshees are female.

MatthewB's picture
m 1+ points - Newb

And, given the sadistic and anesthetized nature of the event, a "female circumcision" performed on a banshee would be all the more horrific and scream-provoking.

Anonymous Coward's picture

So what happens when you hold in a shit for a week and a half....

Strength Through Poo's picture

Here in Greece (a country where poop, and one's bowel movements, are a totally aceptable and normal topic of conversation), activated charcoal , sold under the name of Carbosylane, is prescribed for diarrhea. It gently and naturally reduces your pooping to once or twice and day, and to a nice solid consistency. They only side-effect I have ever had is that my poop goes black, which is quite cool really.

immoduim addict..'s picture

very funny story ..but I take Imoduim all the time generally 18 pills at a time and it stops me for a week then i have horrid cramps for one day and rather bad constipation (which I much prefer over IBS Diareah)..don't mind my spelling it's late and I'm whiped !

healthy 1's picture
j 1000+ points

Good story , but a bit long.

I can't imagine the intense pain that you went through. I have had the 'rhoids, and they are no picnic when they rupture. I have experienced the pain of the 'rhoids, but never compounded by an attack of the runs, let alone, nearly a weeks worth of poop.

All I can say, OUCH. I hope you never experience that ordeal again.

"Two percent of the population think; three percent of the population think they think, and 95 percent of the population would rather die than think."

The Shit Volcano's picture
Comment Quality Moderatorh 3000+ points

Great story, MatthewB, but it brings up a few basic rules of pooping to remember:

1. Gluttony and constipation don't mix.
2. Immodium sucks. Use Pepto next time.
3. The eternal debate is settled. DON'T PUSH!!!

Anyway, I'm glad you survived this ordeal. And stay away from that airline food, for God's sake! The last thing I tried to eat blew me up likea balloon and smelled like an electrical fire on the way out! BLECH!

Beware the shitticane. Election, 2008.

I found Jesus! He was behind the sofa the whole time!

Anonymous Cowherd's picture

The trick with Immodium, I think, is to start off with one and see how it goes. I try not to take it, but I sometimes give in if I have to work or when I have bad diarrhea and my sore butt can't take any more. Usually one is enough to stop the flow. I really hesitate to take two because for me, it's total overkill and then I'll end up being constipated for days.

The writing in this story was great, by the way, though I'm really sorry you had to experience that. It sounds awful. I was constipated for a week once and I can relate to that nauseous, full feeling. Awful.

defrag's picture

great story; im reading it on the shitter.

i have had the shits all day; my tattered bunghole cannot take anymore abuse so i googled "cant stop shitting"

this was the first result

Im buying some pepto and white rice

I actually just vomited; I have never felt happier to have it come out topside. I dont think my bloody stump of an ahole can take anymore abuse

immodium lover's picture

Imodium is good for when you have to go to weddings or have a big event at work. the trick is to take 1 Imodium/Loperamide pill if your stools are runny but slightly formed. if it is pure liquid take 2. don't eat any fruit/beans or anything that can cause gas while ur plugged up. when it all ends you'll cry and tears will run from ur face dripping onto the toilet seat. try not to eat alot while you're on them but don't starve yourself to death either.

Anonymous Coward's picture

Immodium is the gateway drug to Lomotil.

Dragonshit13's picture

Great story! It was a little longish, but some of us do have long stories, and anyway it was such a good story anyway. I've never tried Imodium, but I think I'll look for something else if I ever run into a situation like that. 5/5.

DR T's picture
m 1+ points - Newb

Good story, but Imodium is the best drug on the shelf. I have carried it with me 24/7/365 for the last ten years!

I NEVER leave home without it!

Russell's picture

That was the funniest thing I've ever read. Besides the obvious humor the poop brings us, the breakdown of the man selling the sandwich to the inflated costs, etc. really did the story justice. A pulitzer nominee for sure.

Anonymous Coward's picture

funny as fuck

Powersoak's picture

Thanks for a very funny story. I am trying to imagine the sounds coming from the bathroom when the mother calls out for a life-saving flush. I'm thinking of something like an artillary barrage with an adjacent carpet-bombing campaign from an old war film.

Dildo Baggins's picture
l 100+ points

_Don't listen to these Yuppie Bone Snugglers crying about the length of the tale. With your writing talent, you could describe paint drying and make it an epic.______
Here I sit, my cheeks a flexin', about to give birth to another Texan.

Look out for Number 1, but don't step in Number2

Anonymous Coward's picture

i'm always going i don't know what it is but hot dogs hamburgers and hot coco make me gooooo
i drive at nite and i'm always on the lookout for portapottys,
immodium plugs me up for a couple of days
a good stopper is hydrocodone works well

Texas Nana's picture

I laughed my head off at the story. It's helpful to know that I'm not the only one that had done that!

El Scumbag's picture
k 500+ points

"I wailed like a banshee being circumcised -- a symphony of splats, farts, and loud expulsions blanketed by my endless bloody screaming echoing like a finely orchestrated symphony from my bathroom"

Fucking hilarious! I choked on my bacon sandwich reading that story. Beautifully written, grim imagery, wonderfully graphic, and I do believe that you a man who can outdo me for waffle!

Paul's picture

When I first used immodium, one pill would stop me up for days. But then your body gets immune to it and you have to take more of it to get the same effect. Lately I can take two at a time and it only stops me up for half a day.

Leaky Bowel King's picture
l 100+ points

I have only ever taken immodium once. when I was a kid I used to get constipated a lot because I ate a lot of cheese. Being young and stupid I thought immodium helped dierrhea and constipation so I took one. I was so stopped up and in pain I walked around crying for two days. Thank god I didn't have to go to school like that.

OMG!'s picture

Holy Sh**!!! This story is way too funny... A little long, but wow! I too have IBS so sometimes immodium saves me... Especially on vacations!! LOL!!

Hartbrother3's picture

I feel so sorry for u!! Anyways I get the shits from any type of alcoholic drink and it has ruined my social life to the extent that I don't do sleep overs with friends or go out after a night of drinking!!

Oh my ASS!'s picture

By far the best story I have ever read...

m1ke's picture

awesome story

Lady J's picture
m 1+ points - Newb

Excellent story and great writing style.

I remember back in the day they used to make immodium in liquid form which was a real asset (pardon the pun)allowing you to take a more easily measure 1/2 or quarter doseage if you didn't feel like crapping out a cement mixer 3 days later.

Not sure if they still make the liquid version, but might be worth looking into.

Opinions are like assholes, everyone's got one, and most of 'em stink.

Opinions are like assholes, everyone's got one, and most of 'em stink.

SC's picture

I just got the flu and was shitting liquid non stop, so I took 2 taps of Imodium extra strength. I projectile vomited 6 times 40 minutes later then another 5 times an hour later. I thought Imodium was the cause. I took it again after shitting every 30 minutes for 12 hours straight. It finally stopped, but now I haven't shit in 36 hours and am wondering where that food is being stored? Not sure if Imodium is the best stuff on earth, like Snapple, or Antichrist in pill form.

King of Sharts's picture

I was disturbed by the banshee circumcision thing, as banshees are female spirits. I've never seen a female being circumcised, but, that's just me...

ChiefThunderbutt's picture
PoopReport of the Year AwardComment Content ModeratorComment Quality Moderatorf 5000+ points

Dear King ... If you lived in Africa or some middle eastern countries you would know more about the horrors of female circumcision. Read this article and you will know more about the trauma some women in the world are subjected to.

Eat chilies and feel the burn!!

If I had two faces do you think I'd be wearing this one?

Powersoak's picture

Funny, fabulous story; rich in descriptive detail. You have a talent for writing as well as pooping. I knew someone years ago who had a similar poop explosion in a basement rest room at his church and he swore it made the bells ring in the steeple.

For years I took Lomotil every day and that barely slowed down my bowels. If I were to rely on rice, the grains would be shooting out like kids flying out of a water flume ride. Imodium is a trusted friend. Nothing I eat constipates me, but Imodium will bring relief for a day or so after a bad case of the runs, or as a wonderful Spanish teacher called it, the Montevideo quickstep.

 Rita Owen's picture

Why has Imodium been pulled from shelves in Clearwater, Fl. That is the only thing that helps me with IBS. cannot find it and need it badly .

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