Potty Blues And Sisterly Love

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So I got out of university, all casual, all happy because it was Friday and class was over. I went to the cafeteria so I could charge my Blackberry and listen to music on my way home. But before I could do anything, I felt a fart coming. It was a bit too hot on my rectum, so I squeezed my cheeks and walked as fast as I could to the bathroom. I was thankful for the very low density of students at that hour, because there was no one on the halls who could see me, and no one in the bathroom. As soon as my bum hit the cold white seat, I felt a hot squirt. "What the fuck?" Usually when I have diarrhea, my stomach aches, but this one came without warning. It was just yellow liquid. Gosh, I hoped it would be the last time. I washed my hands, and as if nothing happened, I bought some cookies to have a little snack and distract my stomach from the fact I hadn’t had lunch; then I went to the study room to plug my phone. By the time my Blackberry was charged, it was 2:20 p.m. I went to the bathroom one last time, just in case before heading out, and nothing came out.

I headed to the bus stop. At 2:30 p.m., the traffic starts to get heavy and the buses are all full, and so none could stop to take anyone else. Taxis were not an option, either. Half an hour later, I was desperate to get the fuck out of there, go home, and eat something. My aunt told me to go to her workplace at the mall, and on that other side of the road, the traffic was much lighter. I happily accepted. I caught a bus quickly, and somewhere in the middle of the two hours of road, I felt it on my rectum again. I held it. Another while later, my gut was growling, but again, it was not from hunger. We were frustratingly close to the mall, but the street was ENTROPY. When I finally made it, I said a quick hello to my aunt and my mom, and entered the bathroom. And there it began: It seemed like my gut was pushing me to discharge as much as it could while there was a bathroom nearby, because I made like ten trips to that bathroom while I was there. I also made the huge mistake of eating a small hot dog for the sake of having something in my stomach. I took a pill the pharmacy clerk sold me hesitantly, the name of which I forgot rather quickly (pfft, well deserved) and chased it down with a sports drink.

At eight in the evening, my mum, my aunt, and I went to my grandpa’s birthday celebration at a fancy hotel bar, and while they were all eating, drinking, and watching the game, I kept going to the bathroom, which much to my dismay, was far away. To top it off, my muscles were sore, because on Thursday I went for a run for the first time after long months of being a couch potato. I looked like a little incontinent old lady, going to the bathroom frequently and walking very rigidly.

By the time the reunion ended, I had lost count of my trips, and it was just a matter of time before everyone knew my bowels (and my anus, needless to say) were tender, because I didn’t even eat cake, just some lousy soup and apple juice. I was frustrated because the pill did not work. My dad had just returned from a trip to Venezuela, and when he realized I was sick, he stopped at another pharmacy to buy me some other pills and Pedialyte on the way home, so I could find relief and replace lost water and electrolytes. I chased down that other smaller pill (named Diaren, a name I shall never forget). I was so tired I fell asleep in the car, and my parents had to wake me up when we arrived home. I went to the bathroom as soon as I woke up, drank another dose of Pedialyte, and went back to sleep. I woke up in the early morning to take a massive liquid poop, one that was worth waking up for. I almost fell asleep in the bathroom, but I felt somewhat different when I was done. I went to sleep again.

In the morning, I hear the faint sound of someone opening my door and closing it again. Later, I hear it again, and I open my eyes to see my older sister checking on me. She asked me how I felt, and told her I didn’t need the loo, just something for breakfast. She was so sweet; she made me plain toasts and was willing to bring them along with the Pedialyte when I was still in bed. But when she entered my room, she called my name because I was not there--instead I was happily standing in the bathroom brushing my teeth. She asked me where to put it, and I ate my stuff and another pill. I didn’t go to the bathroom again on the entire day. I had a light soup with rice for lunch, and toasts with cheese and ham for dinner. Then my sister, my brother-in-law and I went for dinner at Friday’s. They both had big-ass burgers, and I had the chicken fingers from the kid’s menu so as not to abuse my stomach. I didn’t even eat all the fries. Now my sister’s burger did not agree with her, or she overate … she took Alka-Seltzer, and now it will be my turn to soothe her and ask her how she feels. Wish me luck!

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1 Comments on "Potty Blues And Sisterly Love"

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Wish you luck!