“Everyone poops,” blah blah blah, yeah right. No one is that mature and nonchalant about twosies. Why must we humans complicate something that all animals do? Now, I will be the first to say that I really cannot talk about Number Two with anyone, not even doctors. But my mind does boggle at why it has to be that way. I am not saying that I would prefer the state of things to be that anyone can pop a squat wherever they like in public and just let it go, like other animals, because that is just not sanitary. I like sanitary. But we can’t even talk about it. It’s traumatizing.
Three years ago when I was still living in Egypt, I took a trip to the US and Canada. The night before I left Egypt, I had a salad at The Bakery, a restaurant I would come to boycott after this salad. I came down with some sort of stomach virus that basically caused me to have what I cannot refer to any more politely than “frequent explosive diarrhea” for almost the entirety of the three weeks I was gone. In its first days I was going pretty much every 10 to 20 minutes.
Besides the stomach virus itself, writing about this is not the most traumatizing aspect of this. It’s the fact that while I was in Canada, my parents had me talk to a doctor whom they know personally over the phone about my frequent explosive diarrhea.
I now think that four degrees of separation are minimal when discussing medical conditions involving poo.
I described my symptoms and was recommended some medications. We discussed the precise details of the condition of my explosive diarrhea. We talked about the frequency, the consistency, the appearance, and we compared and contrasted this with normal bowel movements. The doctor laughed at me for avoiding coffee which is a diuretic, which sounds like diarrhea, but diuretics make you pee. Still, I defy anyone not to poo after drinking lots of coffee.
This was less humiliating than it would have been in person since we were talking over the phone. I took comfort in this, as with most embarrassing medical discussions, and that I would never see or talk to the doctor again.
What I didn’t know was that the next day, I would meet this person face-to-face at a gathering my family had with some relatives and friends. A personal, social non-clinical setting. I was then asked the paradoxical question “how is your diarrhea?” by dozens of people, many of whom I had never met in my life.
How are you supposed to answer that? “It’s good.” Good at being diarrhea? Bad because it’s good at being diarrhea? Good because it’s no longer explosive diarrhea, so it’s not actually diarrhea anymore and it’s just regular poo? “My diarrhea is poo, thanks for asking.”
More recently, during my trip to Egypt last month, I also became deathly ill and bedridden with some sort of stomach flu. I thought it was food poisoning because I had both diarrhea and nausea that I thought would turn into vomiting, but then I had a mysterious fever as well.
Again, my mom asked a doctor–who is my aunt–about my symptoms. Then she relayed a question to me, which she said was “purely scientific,” about the way it smelled, as if some particularly illuminating description of that would explain what was wrong with me. It just smells like, you know, regular diarrhea. Not really spicy or teriyaki diarrhea, just original diarrhea. If you smell closely, it might vaguely resemble the enchilada I had for dinner, but mostly it smells like shit because I shat it.
I may not be able to face many of you after posting this, but that is exactly what I am talking about here. The fact that now that after forcing myself into this traumatic public discussion, I am embarrassed about it, much unlike a discussion about pee would be.
Lots of people talk about pee explicitly all the time. I live-tweeted a pee emergency not long ago, but maybe I’m no longer the best example of someone who has shame.
Many ladies say “I have to pee,” specifying what they’re going to do in the bathroom in a way that they never would if they had to poo. In fact, any lady who says “I have to pee again” any less than 15 minutes after using a bathroom actually pooed the first time she went, but she’ll never admit it.
Unless that lady is me, of course. Because ladies don’t poo.
*Image from Once Upon a Potty by Papa K.
When I first met my husband and mentioned bodily functions, particularly “going number two” he was horribly offended. I was then promptly informed that in his culture (non-American, non-European) that mentioning this would be a divorce worthy offense. To this day- after marriage, after children- he still refuses to admit that he poos. After years of being together, he has yet to poo while I am in the house. At least not officially. I have my suspicions about when he does this, but I can’t prove it. According to him, “he doesn’t do this.” I have been rather shamelessly trying to change his discourse on this matter. It hasn’t worked…yet.
Haha “not officially.”
I’m pretty sure my partner knows whenever I’m going number two because I arbitrarily push him out of the house or lock him in a room without explanation. He’s probably figured it out, but if he hasn’t I guess he’ll read this comment.
Yeah dude, that’s what I do that for. Sorry.
I don’t think we’re going to be together anymore after I send this.
I don’t know how to answer, “How is your diarrhea?” either. Maybe you should have said, “Come and see.”
I think I’ll start using that, along with some sort of crude gesture.
I used to know a guy, o.k. I dated him, who was way TOO free with the poo information. He had no problem sitting on the toilet reading the paper with the door wide open while I was in his apartment. I am happy to say that I did NOT marry him.
Love the title of your post, BTW.
Man, good on you for not signing a contract binding yourself to an open-door poo-er. As much talk as I talk, I draw the line right there. Well, a few miles from there.
I’ve been working on being more natural in my everyday life. For example, I jog barefoot.
With respect to defecation and all that it entails, I’ve taken a lead from my dogs and got in the habit of sniffing my date’s butt early on in the evening.
Because folks are so darned uptight, this has severely limited my social life.
It’s just being selective! No need to lower your standards just because others haven’t advanced to butt-sniffing.
I poo, pee and brush my teeth alone. If I let one person watch soon EVERYONE will want to watch. Some things are just too special to share.
Watching people brush their teeth makes me gag.
No need to be coy for what happened after The Bakery. Just us the proper euphemism. For that particular thing it is known as “the burning ring of fire.”
You’re welcome!
P.S. Brad Pitt also poops. Now you know.
So funny and true. We actually had SUCH a similar post to this: http://brookeandmckenzie.wordpress.com/2011/10/16/poop/ , except we discussed when you talk about poo with your mate.
We were both in situations where we were fairly new in relationships or dating someone and it is just awkward, but when you have to go, you have to go.
My boyfriend and I still feel kind of awkward talking about number two but I think that we are somehow warming up to it. Farting used to be such a huge issue but suddenly I accidentally farted and that somehow opened the doors. I was quite embarrassed at the time but got over it.
As for guys pooing with the door open or openly sharing it, I also used to live with someone who would not only spend an hour on the toilet with his laptop in there but he would openly announce he was going poo and give me details. Pretty sure he kept the door open sometimes and when I realized what was happening, I freaked out and told him to close it.
What has been a LIFESAVER for me, and I’m telling you I am not lying is buying “Lush Flush” or “PooPourri.” You spray the water in the bowl 4-5 times before you go and it ACTUALLY works, it smells like lemons and I tested this because he went in the washroom afterwards and said it smelled nice , he had no idea.
brookeandmckenzie.wordpress.com
I really like what you’ve acquired here, really like what you’re saying and the way in which you say it.