Not the typical story

It has been a while. Found a job and I travel once a month. The Warden is holding down the prison while I am away, and doing a fine job of it. 

I have thought a lot about writing, but my new job requires a lot of writing, so there was nothing that stood out much until now. 

***Warning*** this story is graphic in nature and it is about bodily functions. Read at your own risk. You have been warned. 

It starts innocently on a Friday.  Pretty typical Friday.  I have to take my youngest to daycare.  We were out of dishwasher detergent, so I stopped to get some at a store near her school.  In the shopping center is a Taco Bell, so I grabbed two breakfast burritos and headed back home into my office to work.  The rest of the day was uneventful and I skipped lunch to get work done.  That is until I pick her up at the end of the day.  I had her older brother and sister in tow, and, since I would be traveling the next week, I decided to take them to dinner.  They voted on Moe’s.  Mexican twice in one day?  Not a big deal for me.  Or so I thought.

We did not even leave Moe’s before my stomach started to do somersaults.  Five minutes after we left, we were home.  I was going downhill fast.  Cold sweats.  Shivering so badly that as I sat there shaking, I could see my fitbit activity monitor registering the shaking as if I was walking.  I get the kids to bed, and I climb in myself.  Every 30-45 minutes I made a quick waddle to the bathroom to explode.

Saturday passes without me leaving the bedroom for more than 5 minutes.  24 hours after my last meal, I ate two oranges.  Yay.  I begin to worry.  I am to fly out Sunday afternoon for a week in Illinois.  I start to consider buying some adult diapers if the frequent trips to the bathroom continues.  I made trips to the pot every 30 minutes for over 36 hours straight.  I took water in, it came back out.

Sunday.  A new day awakens.  I try some food.  It stays in.  I eat some more.  It stays in.  I feel as though I am a bit bloated with the sinking feeling of gas build up. I am feeling 80% human.  I don’t need the diapers after all.  I get packed.  Head to the airport and was thankful that the past two days are behind me.  Or so I thought.

First flight is from Harrisburg to Detroit.  As I get on the flight, and the stomach begins to grow ever so slightly.  I get to Detroit.  90 minute layover. I stroll around.  Eat a sandwich and don’t really think about how I feel.  I board the plane.  Put my headphones on with a play list of songs that complement reading a good book.  It was a 100 minute or so flight.  I have a window seat.  At the last minute, the seat next to me is filled.  And he stunk.  Not BO stink.  But food stink.  Could not put my finger on it.  Wasn’t Chinese or Indian, but it was that thick smell that had a twinge of garlic and some other strong and disgusting, pungent odor.  Maybe on a different day, I would not have minded it, but as I was thinking about the smell, and his complete lack of consideration for sharing a public space, my stomach began to grow.

And grow.  And grow.  Gas was building up.  I began to sweat.  I could not move.  I was about to get up to go to the bathroom and hopefully burst the gas bubble that was in my body.  I had to wait for the beverage service to finish so I could get to the bathroom.  But, just before it ended, we hit turbulence.  Rough enough that the seatbelt sign came on and we were not allowed to leave our seats.  30 minutes to go.  I had to survive.  I could not get comfortable.  I was having contractions.  It started as one cramp every few minutes, but it quickly evolved into every few seconds. Every muscle in my body would clench and I was focused on keeping myself from being the end of someone else’s story about some horrendous flight where a guy messes his pants.  The minutes ticked by like years.

All the while I was focused on my clenching, the world around me continued to go on like nothing was out of the ordinary.  My neighbor could not get comfortable in his seat either, and every time he moved, his elbow would hit me.  Sometimes he hit my arm.  Most times, my stomach.  And his stench continued to get worse.

I began to focus on my breathing and the clenching of my body to keep everything where it belongs.  The music was still playing in my headphones.  Typically I will listen to many different play lists or albums I have on my phone.  But in this moment, I could not move to do anything that was not part of the main focus.  So the songs kept replaying.  I could tell that we were getting close to landing.  We were in the final descent.  I close my eyes and focus on the music.  The music then starts to become a soundtrack to my situation as the words for each song somehow can be directly related to my situation. And at this point we are now probably on the 5^th time through this playlist.

First up, Imagine Dragons, and the song describes my stomach; Radioactive.

I'm waking up to ash and dust,
I wipe my brow and I sweat my rust,
I'm breathing in, the chemicals. 
I'm breaking in, shaping up, then checking out on the prison bus.
This is it, the apocalypse, whoa.
I'm waking up, I feel it in my bones.
Enough to make my systems blow.

No kidding, my systems are going to blow.

Killers come next with All the Things That I’ve Done

When there's nowhere else to run
Is there room for one more son
One more son
If you can hold on
If you can hold on, hold on 
I want to stand up, I want to let go
You know, you know - no you don't, you don't
Yeah, you know you got to help me out
And when there's nowhere else to run
Is there room for one more son

I am holding on.  Trust me, I am holding as tight as I can.  Then Maroon5.

You drain me dry and make me wonder why I'm even here
The double vision I was seeing is finally clear
You want to stay but you know very well I want you gone
Not fit to fuckin' tread the ground I'm walking on
Is there anyone out there 'cause it's getting harder and harder to breathe
Is there anyone out there 'cause it's getting harder and harder to breathe

Really hard to breathe.  I can’t hold it much longer.  Ben Folds comes on and gives me the fortitude to fight back and curse my body for what I am afraid it may do to me.

 

I'm big and important
One angry dwarf and 200 solemn faces are you
If you really want to see me check the papers and the TV
Look who's telling who what to do
Yeah, kiss my ass goodbye 
You'll be sorry one day, yeah, you will, yes, you will
You shouldn't push me around 'cause I will, yes, I will
You will be sorry when I'm big, yes, you will, yes, you will
You will be sorry

Or am I going to be the sorry one?

The.
Plane.
Lands.

Still cannot move.  I am the last one off the plane. I walk slowly.  Torn between the need to get to the bathroom fast, but not wanting to make any movements that will cause my tight grip to be lost.

Headphones are still on. Music still playing.  Stewardess says something to me as I get off the plane.  Her expression seems to indicate that it was something in the line of, ‘Are you ok?” but I just say thank you and keep moving.

The clouds part.  The sun shines.  The angels sing.  The bathroom is directly across from the gate.

Too good to be true.  Alas, it was the devil dressed as a saint though.  The bathroom was full with a lot of people waiting.  Dejected, I walk out.  I must go to the next bathroom.

Stevie Wonder starts to play and I can actually hear music again (I swear I heard no music for about 10 minutes I was concentrating on my situation so intently).

For once in my life I have someone who needs me
Someone I’ve needed so long
For once unafraid I can go where life leads me and somehow I know I’ll be strong
For once I can touch what my heart used to dream of
Long before I knew
Someone warm like you
Who have my dreams come true
For once in my life I won't let sorrow hurt me
Not like it's hurt me before
For once I have someone I know won't desert me
I’m not alone anymore

My wedding song that always makes me feel good.  Almost to the bathroom. 

Bathroom.  Nirvana.  Smells Like Teen Spirit.  No, just kidding, THAT would just be way too crazy.

While in the bathroom I heard one guy come in, hear the sounds that are coming out of me and he actually said out loud, ‘Wow.’

Yeah.  Wow. Now get the out of here buddy.  And don't light a match.