Fresh off the press! New story! Extra! Extra!
No really, this is new. It happened a couple of days ago. I'll start from the very beginning.
Last week (Wednesday, May 06), I was preparing to leave for my grandparents house as a sort of trip that my parents were doing for their anniversary (actually May 6, which was the very day my mom left). My dad and I stayed behind at home because I wanted to go to school on Thursday to ensure my attendance record was good to skip finals. During this time, I pretty much put my digestive system on lockdown due to all the running around. There wouldn't be time to sit in the bathroom and mess with it anyway.
On Thursday, May 07, my dad and I departed and started heading for my grandparents house, which is a 3 hour, 220 mile drive to the northeast in east-central Illinois. Before leaving Missouri, my dad and I stopped at Steak n Shake and I got a garlic double steakburger, fries, and a banana shake. Already flirting with my stomach capacity as well as having recent trouble with greasy or fried food, that turned into a horrible idea very fast. I felt like there was an inflating beach ball in my abdomen and sitting in an uncomfortable seat for 3-4 hours with a lot of it being bumpy construction work was torture. By the time we finally got there, I walked into my grandparents house and laid down in the middle of the living room floor to try to settle my raging digestive system. My dad got me one of my mom's anti-gas pills, which ended up working to some extent. Then my grandpa made the announcement that we were going out for pizza. I told him that I was not going to eat much, and I didn't. More grease was not for me. This probably contributed to some of my problem later.
Now due to bathrooms being a major issue (my grandparents have two, one guest and one in their master bedroom) with my big family, I once again couldn't have gone in to sit even if I was in dire need of it. And at night, my grandparents would be sleeping so I couldn't use theirs, and they go to bed at like 8:00. So I was pretty much sharing two - sometimes even one - bathroom with 9 people (10 if you include my baby sister, who needed baths and bathroom materials frequently). I decided that for the whole weekend, I would just do quick sit-and-run stops. I'd just run in, shove out a little bit (the drains were tiny, can't afford logs right now), wipe, and be done, preferably in the amount of time a normal piss would take. It seemed to work alright, but I would wind up in the bathroom for short periods as much as 8 times a day. My mom noticed and said, "Are you alright...?" several times.
After a few days of this, I felt myself getting backed up with constipated stool. I just had to make it to Monday night (May 11) when we would go home. I struggle with a number of colon problems and have since I was a little kid, so what I was doing was extremely unhealthy if not dangerous. I could feel it piling upwards towards my rib cage where it decreased my stomach volume and began to hurt. I resorted to eating like a bird, swallowing gas pills, and taking my mom's Colace laxative to try to go a bit more during my quick stops. On Monday morning, I took two Colace pills plus MiraLax plus some more pills I had to try to loosen things a bit for when I got home. Bad idea, idiot.
We departed for home. My abdomen felt like a churning hell and I was incredibly uncomfortable. I propped myself up on some pillows and vowed that I would not exit the van until I was home. But I have a family who constantly wants to do things, so we stopped at Dairy Queen for shakes. I stayed in the van but had my dad get me a peanut butter shake. Probably not smart. They sat around taking their time for over a half hour and we finally left. I was relieved...until they stopped at a park. I was feeling truly horrible now and stayed behind while they went elsewhere for over an hour. When they finally came back, my siblings (led by my arrogant egotistical brother) were gossiping about me and making rude comments on how I was so lazy. But at least we finally started going home. I managed to snooze a little bit to pass time and make my internal suffering a bit better, but by the last quarter of the trip, my pain and disfiguration (my lumps were visibly bulging on my skin) was unbearable. I yelled to my mom that I was going straight in the house to use the bathroom before carrying in suitcases and junk. When we got home, I scrambled out as much as I could even though people wouldn't move out of my way.
I crawled out bare footed (I lost my shoes somewhere in there) and ran down the basement stairs to my bathroom. I sat on the toilet and was pretty much like, "BE FREE!" A vibration shot through my body as my intestines practically exploded. In less than five seconds (absolutely not kidding, it was that fast), the toilet bowl was beyond halfway full with liquefied and/or pulverized waste. I didn't even try flushing, I knew it would overflow. The explosion covered my backside in brown liquid. Once I was cleaned up, I left the bathroom and locked the door behind me to keep anyone from entering (and they tried too, my sister and probably my brother tattled to my mom about me locking the door even though it's not their bathroom). I carried in a few things from the van but so much time had passed that most of it was done. It was past 12:30am now and I had school in the morning, so I couldn't deal with the toilet in the condition it was in. I let it sit until I got home from school where I sifted through the wreckage with the plunger trying to find the drain. I forced it all to go down and completely scoured the toilet with disinfectant and powdered bleach. Then I locked the door again and let the fan air the bathroom out for several hours.
Jeez. But man that felt soooooo good.
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