Wednesday, July 24, 2013

adult diapers

warning. contains bathroom humor. or, bathroom non-humor. or just bathrooms. let's just say TMI.

ate falafel two nights ago. felt almost instantly sick to my stomach. DM said, wait, didn't that happen last time you ate that as well? yes. also the time before that. DM: hmmm. of all the things you like to make lists of, it seems like that should be at the top: foods that make you violently ill. maybe he's right. spent the rest of the night whining and writhing in pain and warned him to listen for fainting. (i do that sometimes - faint when my stomach or my uterus reallyreallyreallyreally hurts. 91% of the time it happens while i am sitting on the toilet with my pants around my ankles. 22% of the time it happens in public. like, in the girls' locker room in high school (during the end-of-the-year basketball awards ceremony, i received a trophy for best fainter/projectile vomiter - yes, i multitask). or at the public library where they proceeded to call the ambulance, and from which i banned myself for the next nine months, and continue to wear sunglasses whenever i visit lest i be recognized as The Pants-Free Fainter. one time it happened on the floor of a cheap hotel in nicaragua that was covered, and i mean covered, in gnats (chayules). a chayule carpet if you will. i ended up with an enormous blue egg on my head, sprinkled with chayules. i think the proprietor of the little hotel thought DM was beating me when he asked for ice and she saw my giant gnat-peppered horn. i happened to be barely pregnant at the time and this experience landed me in a nicaraguan emergency room where there were no sheets on the (plastic) beds, no paper products, no sterilization measures that i could see, and they gave me this in which to collect a fecal sample...
pretty sure mine did not have
a shiny new "sterile" sticker on it.
it may have been "gently used."
just for scale, i will inform you, it was about the size of my thumb, and, all charming colloquialisms aside, that wasn't happening. i asked a nurse how exactly this was supposed to work and she said, "Un momento," and brought back a toothpick, which, unfortunately, failed to illuminate the situation. on the bright side, everyone was SO friendly! it was like the beginning of The Real World when people show up one by one and you play getting-to-know-you games with all of your new neighbors/roommates. (but sh*t starts to get real when you realize you are supposed to give a poop sample in an itsy bitsy little beaker in a pitch black bathroom that is lacking a toilet seat, toilet paper, electricity, running water, and, once my eyes adjusted, appeared to have been spray-painted in several layers of extremely loose stool). BUT, do you want to know what our hospital bill was? ZERO DOLLARS!!! who needs toilet paper?! BYOTP!

ANYWAY. still basically feel like sharp, angry, fire-breathing aliens are mutating and multiplying in my GI tract, violently in search of the nearest exit. texted DM as much the next morning.

DM: so... no more kebab shop?
me: never again.
me. until next time.
me: to be fair, i don't think it's just kebab shop. i think falafel doused in sriracha is a pretty lethal combination regardless of its origin.
DM: yes. it's fal-awful. sir-gotcha. [hilarious, that guy!]
me: so funny i peed myself. oh wait. that's not pee. [editor's note - i did not and have not (as of the time of this writing) actually soiled my pants.]
me: i'm starving but afraid to eat. though i was sort of considering a burrito from mexican fiesta for lunch. lol. ugh. that is NOT the kind of party in your pants that you want to have - the kind the requires adult diapers.
DM: salad.
me: ew no.
DM: you defy evolution.
awwww. thanks baby!

i was not getting the requisite support and encouragement from my significant other so i decided to try with a good friend from work:

me: so sick. dying one thousand intestinal deaths.
b: did you see the caramel oreo ice cream sandwich thingy i sent on pinterest?
me: yes, thank you, now i am sick AND starving for sweets. i want 14 of those, and 43 strawberry fig macarons from waters.
b: ha.
me: seriously though, i actually do want the macarons. i feel like they are the only thing that might make me feel better.
b: no.
me: why not??? they are basically just like giant, delicious Tums?

sadly, i got neither burritos nor macarons. i have been eating only things that are white for about 24 hours now. and i have sworn off of fried things and hot sauce for the forseeable future, which means, until the craving for said items overshadows the memory of the pain i am experiencing today. darwin-shmarwin!


Yes, I *have* had a Doner today.
The effects lasted more than 4 hours
and I was forced to seek immediate
medical attention (in the form of strawberry macarons).
^ Found this on the Kebab Shop's Facebook page,
while searching for the surprisingly elusive "have you had a doner today" logo...
Why do they have to fight? WHY? Can't they all just get along????
Also, isn't this just basically advertising
"Our food will make you ill, but it sure does taste delicious!"

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