Where The Fuck Is My Imodium??!

I'm pretty sure I've talked about this before, but I'm going to cover it again because I recently went through an almost life changing experience.

For those who are just joining us, I am a sufferer of Irritable Bowel Syndrome, or IBS. This wonderful little disease/syndrome/curse from hell causes your bowels to essentially decide for you when you're going to take a deuce. Basically, you'll be sitting there minding your own business when out of know where you get massive lower abdominal cramping (aka the guy code for "Dude, we need to go home RIGHT NOW." - akaka You have to take a massive dook, probably from eating too much PF Changs)

Along with this intolerable urge by your body to take a dump, you get:

- Nervous sweating
- Clammy Forehead, Palms
- Nausea
- Vertigo
- Inability to speak
- Panic
- Intense bouts of Bargaining (3rd step in Grief)

Sounds terrifying? No, this isn't just for us IBS sufferers, this is what anyone goes through then they're about to foam out of their underpants. I may eat the wrong thing and feel this....or a guy could eat a bran muffin, smoke a cigarette, and drink a latte while being stuck in a tunnel in a traffic jam and go through the same thing.

No biggie. The tactic is plan to eat right and to make sure bathrooms are always accessible.

I tell you all that to tell you this.

Typically as a tradition, I like to eat spicy wings on Sunday night, usually while watching True Blood and what not. Normally I spend all day in the office on Mondays, which is convienently located right across the hall from the bathroom. Well, one particular Sunday night a few weeks ago, I was happily mowing down on an unholy amount of chicken wings doused in hot sauce and ranch, when a co-worker reminded me that we had an off site meeting with several clients super early the next Morning. So not only was it early enough that I couldn't "prepare" my guts, but it was also too early for any Imodium to take effect.

Suffice to say the next morning at about 10 am, I had the "bubble guts" which were making noises much like the scene from Dumb and Dumber when Harry has just had the turbo lax, and is driving his Lambo to the Mary's house. Dead in the middle of a meeting with the inability to say "if you'll excuse me a minute, I have to go destroy a bathroom", I suffered through every gut wrenching convulsion of my innards that were now cooking from the previous nights wings.

In can't remember much other than sweating profusely, panicking like I was poisoned, and trying to go to my happiness to block out the pain. The only upbeat part of this epic battle against my innards was the waves of relief that would come when my guts would stop imploding upon themselves. I was fortunate enough to know my coworkers enough to share that we "need to leave right now" as soon as we were done meeting with clients.

So yes, that was a day that will live in infamy, a day that I almost crapped my pants off site, and would have had to drive home approximately 20 miles. Thank crap for small things (i.e. Imodium, Pepto, IBS battle hardened intestinal tract...)

Although I got IBS bad sometimes, I'm probably a mild case compared to other people that have it. I'm not home bound and I don't have "uncontrollable flatulance" which I've actually read about. Things that usually trigger me are spicy foods, dairy, and extreme physical exercise (yeah...I almost dooked on a treadmill another time....).