[TMI] My little vial of…
So yeah, this will venture into the territory of TMI. If you are uncomfortable around discussions of bodily functions, now is your chance to turn back.
It also makes use of a number of swear words that are, in fact, used for their exact biological definitions.
So if you continue, don’t say I didn’t warn you.
You poor, brave fool.
I’ve been having gastric issues. The kind that result in blood coming out of one’s ass every so often. This is not good.
Being a guy[1], I waited until my semi-regular doctor’s appointment to talk about it, since it seems to come and go based on what I eat. When someone says that spicy food tears up their ass they mean it figuratively. I now mean it literally. What makes that burning ring of fire that much more unpleasant? Blood. A toilet bowl that looks like something out of a horror movie (just the one time, on Tuesday, and since I had a doctor’s appointment on Wednesday ANYWAY…). Not pretty at all.
So after explaining the symptoms, my doc first does some blood work to make sure I’m not in any immediate danger (I’m not). She then explains that she’ll need a sample of a “normal” bowel movement. And hands me a kit to take home.
Inside the kit is :
- a little bottle for the sample
- a wand for collecting the sample (part of the lid of the bottle)
- two pieces of paper with adhesive on two of the sides
- a baggie for the sample container
- instructions [2]
So the idea here is simple. I am to stretch the paper across the toilet bowl, and shit on that. I will then collect the sample, by stabbing (yes, STABBING) the shit multiple times with the wand. I put the wand in the bottle, I seal it in the baggie, and then I drop it off at the doctor’s office.
So Thursday at work my gut tells me, “Hey, time to go!”, so I grab the test kit, and head to the bathroom.
Now, the paper included has little adhesive bits so you can stick it to the sides of the bowl. Easy enough. It is at this point I realise that I must now practice target shitting, as I have to make sure it LANDS ON THE PAPER. And if you are like me, you probably pee some when you shit. This means I have to MISS the paper when I pee, so as not to contaminate the specimen.
My ass is saying “hey, I gotta go, like NOW” and I’m standing in the stall trying to work out the actual logistics of how exactly I need to squat so as to hit the paper with my bowel movement, but not pee on it. I mean, if I do a full sit, I can hit the paper, but I might end up with the shit on ME, and if I hover, I run the risk of not only missing the paper, but peeing on myself or the floor.
I opted for the hover. Now, in order to make sure everything is going where it is supposed to go, I end up in a crouch, with my ass over the paper, and holding my penis so that it’ll aim for the bowl.
If you are a guy, I want you to think about this position for a moment. Crouched over, aiming your ass at one target and your dick at another, and hoping to hit both targets – simultaneously. One false move, ONE fuck up, and not only do you have to do this all over again, but you could end up needing a change of clothes…or a shower. [3]
Did I mention that I was at work? There may have been some additional pressure here to get it right.
There is this moment that people talk about, the one where they wonder what it was, exactly, that got them into a situation. Where did they go wrong? What bit of fate or karma or whatever led a systems administrator to end up squatting in a stall at work, trying to crap on a piece of paper without shitting or pissing on themselves?
None of that for me, because I had enough going on trying to stay on target. Anyway, I already knew – the pair of roasted jalapenos I had with dinner on Sunday were the most likely culprits.
And so, with nothing else to do, I let nature take it’s course.
Words cannot describe the triumph I felt as I heard the shit land on the paper. Success! And then the pee! Right on target! Yes! Now all I had to do was stab the turd six times (the instructions were very specific about that) and I was done!
And as I turned, collector wand in hand, pants around my ankles, I hear a sound that may haunt my dreams. The sound of paper tearing, followed by a “plop” into the water.
It seems I had been off centre, and the weight of the turd on the paper tilted the paper backwards. This in turn, caused the paper to tear, and my success turned into failure as the turd plopped into the water.
I did not grab for it. Instead I stood for a moment, looking forlornly into the toilet bowl, wand in hand, pants around my ankles, realising that I now had to do it all over again.
This, followed by the thought that I only had one more piece of paper with adhesive. If the next attempt failed, I would have to jury rig something with scotch tape and printer paper.
So the pressure was on when my colon made the call after lunch that now was a good time. [4]
Once more with the paper. Once more with the squat. Once more, with the laser-like focus on the position of my ass in relation to the paper, the position of my penis in relation to the bowl and paper, once more into the breach!
Once more the moment of triumph.
Once more I turn and prepare to stab my own shit.
Let me take a moment here to express a truth. Shit stinks. I mean, really, really stinks. You think the cat makes a stench, humans are WORSE. We are saved a lot of this smell by using a toilet, and having a bowl of water to smother that stench. Indoor plumbing is a godsend. And I can only imagine what the people in the other stalls were thinking as this smell began to permeate not just the stall I was in, but the entire men’s room on the first floor.
It was in this pause, as the smell hits me, that about half of it spills over and drops into the toilet, and I realize my aim was once again not as perfect as I had thought.
So I stabbed what was left anyway. Six times as instructed, surrounded by the stench. And I sealed it up in the little vial, and put the vial into the little baggie and sealed that.
Then I pulled my pants up.
I flushed the leftovers, washed my hands, and then walked – semi-triumphant – back to my desk.
Friday morning I dropped the little vial, sealed, at the doctor’s office. Now I get to wait for the results. And hope that another sample isn’t needed…
[1] To quote someone or other : “If a woman finds blood in her stool, she’ll check it obsessively for the next few weeks. If a man finds blood in his stool, he’ll crap in the dark for the next month.”
[2] It has pictures. If I can find it, I will scan it so you can see I am not making this up.
[3] I have heard stories of dogs who shit EXACTLY inside a shoe, or a boot, or something. Perfect target shitting. I am jealous of this talent now.
[4] My colon was very productive Thursday
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