Thursday, April 09, 2009

TMI Thursday: Sticky poo

I should maybe apologize for the content of this up-front. Just know, it's for LiLu.

I was trying to decide whether or not to share this particular story, because one, it's really gross. And two, it’s so much like something that would happen to Ben Stiller in a movie. Except that he’d probably knock himself out and break the sink in the process and be found passed out, ass up, with water from the sink flooding the place.

Which is not what happened. It was a much smaller, less dramatic catastrophe.

For the non-scatological among us - the title says it all. You're warned.

So you know, life is just life, and I’m going to bet that everyone has had a terrible poo situation at one time or another. And it's not like I took a poo in a flower bed with tourists around or anything.

Last weekend, Betty set up a glorious pregnancy massage for me. It was fantastic. But that's not what this is about. Pre-fantastic massage, there was a large amount of disgusting stress.

So I got there on time, but of course had to pee. Because when do I not?

The massage therapist met me at reception, and then asked if I needed to use the bathroom.


So she pointed down the hall (it’s a very small place) while she stayed up front, chatting with the receptionist.

Now, another fact in my life, aside from constantly having to pee, is that I just never have any idea when my body will be all, “Let’s have a bowel movement, shall we?”

I’m no longer constipated, which is awesome, but it’s always a surprise. Oh! Poo!

Which is exactly what happened on this day.

So I had the surprise! Poo!

And I wiped. And it turned out to be the kind of sticky, smeary, oddly tinted, vegetabley poo that your toilet paper glides across with alarming alacrity. Which means that it's suddenly smeared everywhere. I mean, everywhere.

All over my butt, on my hand, everywhere. Except, thankfully, on any of my clothing. Thank goodness I was not wearing, as I so often do, a coat that I’d simply scrunched up around my waist.

So I kept pulling toilet paper and wiping and pulling toilet paper and wiping, while trying very hard not to let my poo-covered hand touch anything else.

Eeee! Poo!

And I was thinking, “Crap crap crap!” (no pun) “I am about to be all nakey nakey with some woman smearing oil somewhere very close to this travesty of justice. I have got to clean this up.”

I’m also mindful of the fact that the massage woman and the receptionist are most likely all, “What the fuck is that woman doing in there? Having her baby?”

Frantically wiping. More and more toilet paper. And then I spot paper towels, which I douse with water.

I clean, I scrub, I scrub, I scrub. Soap soap soap. Water water water.

I finally emerged. Flustered, but poo-free. As far as I can tell.

But I definitely flinched when she reached for my poo-hand during the massage, envisioning teeny tiny little poo molecules clinging to it. My nose is constantly stuffed up now, so the smell test? Not totally reliable.

I got home that afternoon and Nick asked how my massage went.

And I was all, “Oh, it was great. But you have to hear about this crazy poo thing that happened.”


  1. Sticky poo with a smile. Lisa, you're the best (and funniest - "what the fuck is she doing in there, having her baby?"). The massage sounds wonderul! Despite the poo.

  2. Oh, Heather, thank you! You are one of the people I think of when I write this kind of stuff, because I know it's really not your cup of tea.

  3. You are truly the only person who matches my own comfort level with poo. (I mean that as a compliment.)

    And I am still laughing at the description of your poo... mostly because I am ALL too familiar with it.

    Happy TMIT!

  4. Ewww...I usually read LiLu and the other TMIT postings at home, knowing there will be giggles, snickers and laughter. But today I made the mistake of reading your post at work (as usual). And ohmygosh...there is no one here that I can share it with.

    I'm very glad that the toilet didn't overflow for you! And way to go with the paper towels. You're getting practice already for when the baby is here.

  5. That is sooo wrong! But funny.

  6. I wouldn't have been able to enjoy the massage, for fear that I had missed a spot. But, as you said, at least you aren't constipated. As per usual, you are taking your Lemon Glorias and making lemonade (ba-dum-bump!)

  7. It's funny how much more comfortable you become talking about poop when you are pregnant. I've had to sensor myself on many occasions with people I really have no business talking about poop with. But others who have been pregnant? They get me.

  8. Yep, pregnancy was the only time I was comfortable with poo. Honestly, I would have loved ANY poo when pregnant, even sticky gross poo, because I was constipated the whole time I think. I was sure I was going to have poo the size of the babies by the time they were born.

  9. hahahahahahaa your description of it is simply the best lol

  10. i thought about your post an hour ago when i stepped, barefoot, into a dollop of chocolate ganache that my husband had accidentally dropped on the floor . . .

  11. Awesome! Best laugh I've had in a few!!

  12. LiLu - Ahh, just as I can relate to and appreciate your poo comfort level. Happy TMIT to you!

    Susan - Yah, that was a mistake. I do realize it's not really something one can easily chat with others about.

    And yes! Good practice, you are right!

    justjp - Very wrong, you are right.

    freckledk - Ba-dum-bump! Awesome!

    Luna Ohh, yes. And then, apparently once we've gone through childbirth, we'll be able to talk about things like mucal plugs and such. I've heard the most astounding things from mothers over lunch. I'm not kidding.

    Hillbilly Princess - That's the worst, although the idea of a poo the size of a baby is hilarious, if terrifying. I've found that if I drink a TON of water every day, it's fine. If I slack off on the water, I'm in trouble.

    PorkStar - Ahhh, thanks!

    LJ - Ewwww. Sorry that visual was in your head. Chocolate ganache is so lovely.

    Kate - I'm glad to hear it! :)

  13. I love it that you were able to use the word poo and alacrity in the same sentence.

  14. Amazing description - I was laughing out loud! I actually find myself a bit comforted that someone else discusses poo with their husband the same way...

    Not to enter the TMI land too far, but I really like the wet wipes like "always clean" for certain types of poo situations..they can be a real savior when travel creates unpredictable poo patterns...

  15. I have have have a hard time imagining the personal security you must have to appropriate (v.) male-dominated poop. Everybody poops. I am a male. Poop is a burden.


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