Fat Thigh-roid Woes: Ass-plosion Central
Poop. It’s something everyone does, but is rarely discussed in public. Maybe men are allowed to discuss it the older they get, but women are nearly banned from the act. I know plenty of men who deny women take dumps, and if they find out a woman so much as farts – sexual attraction takes a hit. Dating becomes increasingly difficult if you have gas, and you find yourself excusing yourself to go “fix my lipstick” for the upteenth time in the bathroom.
When looking up symptoms of Graves, you will find “Frequent Bowel Movements” as a symptom. I guess that’s a delicate way of saying, “You will be bent over on a toilet, crying your eyes out – and anywhere you go that a bathroom isn’t near will bring you to sheer panic.”
What does Graves Disease do to poop you ask? It waters it down, and your vocab becomes littered with interesting terminology to describe poop – “brb, gotta bust out some ass piss”, “I have the trots” and “seatbelt diarrhea kept me up all night” are some of my faves.
My old roommate can describe the entrance I made nightly into my home. I’d run in, throw my purse down on the floor and sprint to the bathroom – sometimes I’d have sunglasses still on, or sometimes there was no time to even throw my purse down and I’d be on the can holding it.
Out of the myriad of shitty symptoms with Graves, I find the poop one to be up there as one of the most disturbing. Aside from Graves already making me socially awkward with the psychosis, the poop situation was a nightmare to add on top of the awkwardness. The double edged sword of always being hungry so always needing to find food, yet, ALWAYS having to explode a minute after eating made living unbearable.
Here it is: I have sharted my pants because of this disease. Like a child. Like a fucking baby. Did I cry? Later, after the terror sank in. First thought? “FUCK ME, what do I do now?”
I’m willing to bet some have you have either been in this situation, or very near to being in this situation. Mind you, I didn’t make it a habit to shit myself (even as a toddler, I would hide behind a curtain when going poo in my diapers cause I was so bashful about public dumps) but thanks to Graves – everything was fair game. I know people with IBS and Crohns have probably been in this situation, and hey, Celiacs too! Even if it didn’t happen a lot, there were too many close calls. I have some ways to cope in case you’re at a loss:
- Carry a sweatshirt with you, an extra pair of pants, and damn underwear in your car at all times. The sweatshirt comes in handy in case you need to wrap it around your waist in an emergency, it also helps whenever you go out and sweat through your pants – I used it to cover up the sweat stains all the time. Damn those were the days.
- If you’re lucky enough to be near facilities, then bravo – you might’ve managed to avoid social suicide by not crapping your jeans. How do you excuse yourself without making people/your date believe you’re running to the bathroom with bulimia? First, wipe the pained look off your face. Poker face is essential when a watery log is about to ruin your life at The Cheesecake Factory on a Friday night. Make up some excuse that requires the restroom. I happen to be more blunt than most of the people I know, so I just go with the “I had a lot of water today” bit, but if urination is still embarrassing for you to bring up – go with “I can’t get this eyelash out of my eye, and it’s driving me crazy.” in which case, I suggest carrying eye drops to make the story more plausible. You could also bust out the whole “I have to make a call, and I don’t want to be rude and do it at the table…” politely excuse yourself, and RUN as quickly as possible.
- Once you’re in the restroom, there is a whole other set of possibly embarrassing circumstances just waiting to happen. Let’s be real, Graves made it possible for me to crap anywhere without giving a fuck who was there – but if you’re still uncomfortable with dropping a deuce within earshot of the general public….I can’t believe I am saying this, but aside from the obvious “courtesy flush”…attempt to make your blasts as silent as the night. I developed that skill after two years of bathroom humiliation. I wish I could tell you how, but it involves talent and a desire to remain anonymous. By the way, don’t moan on the toilet either, I fucking hate people that moan when crapping. It’s a disgusting dead giveaway you’re giving birth in the next stall; nothing worse than a woman sitting 2 feet away from me, ripping her ass every which way possible, and moaning an orgasmic “uhhhh, uuuhhh UUHH” the entire time. Makes me want to blow my brains out x 10.
- Don’t fart unless you’re on the toilet. Farting can lead to “sharting” and that’s never pleasant. With Graves, you can never be sure if the one you’re about to rip is really going to be just harmless gas – so you’re better off holding it in until you’re hovering above a can..but, if you consider yourself a risk taker and are okay with accidently crapping your pants then by all means…FART AWAY!
- I don’t personally endorse this next possibility, but if you’re desperate – you can try some meds for stopping diarrhea in its tracks. NOTE: It NEVER worked for me, but maybe it’ll work for you. I just hate the thought of bottling up poisons in my system, and farting “cotton ball farts” after taking those chemicals. But, desperate times…
Anyways, my dearest DT dearies, I think this is about as honest as I could get…maybe too honest? Who can say? I hesitated in writing this because of my sense of pride, along with my precarious ladylike position in society. But, I figured that there was probably at least one of you out there dealing with the same messy issue, and if there was any way I could help – whether it be advice on how to deal, or just to even let you know that “Hey, I’ve BEEN THERE” – then it’s worth it. PS? If a guy I’m ever interested in reads this, I suppose I can kiss him goodbye (if he’ll let me) after finding out about my watery diarrhea filled past. Or, maybe he’ll fall in love with my brave words…ahh, that would be something.
Tags: diarrhea and Graves disease, Fat Thigh-roid Woes: Ass-plosion Central written by Nicole Wells, graves disease blog, Graves disease column, Graves disease community, graves disease support, Graves Disease Symptoms Column, Graves symptom diarrhea, quality of life impacted by diarrhea, side-effects of diarrhea