You know when you have that feeling like you “have to go”? You know what I’m talking about, right? Usually, you just get up and go. I don’t really get to do that. Normally, I have to wait until someone is able to help me to do that. The urge to poop can come on pretty suddenly. The worst is when my mom goes out of the house, and I’m feeling fine, but an hour later…
Mom: I’m going to go to the grocery store. Have to poop before I go?
Me: Nope
Me: phone: I’m sorry about this, but I have to poop.
When I was a kid, I had trouble controlling my bladder. I also have some trouble controlling my arms and legs and my eyes, but somehow the bladder control thing was much more embarrassing as a kid. That’s not really funny, but it’s true.
I’m a toilet clogger. I think it’s because I’m sitting all day, and the poop probably gets compacted while it’s in me, so when I “go” it comes out as a giant poop baby. If I’m ever on a date, I probably won’t bring this up as a topic of conversation, but since we’re all friends here, it seems ok. The good thing is that after I drop the big one, all my clothes feel really loose again. It’s like I can poop myself down a whole size. Pants that were once chafing into my stomach a little bit are now loose and relaxed. It’s like giving birth, I suppose. A poop baby birth.
The bad thing is that I don’t want to use public toilets because I prefer to clog up my own commode. I especially don’t want to clog up someone else’s personal toilet.
*Jamie clogs toilets* every time
I have to go to the bathroom.
OK.
I need you to lift me out of my chair and onto the pot.
OK.
I also need you to pull my pants down, ok?
OK.
I may need some help after.
…
and I clogged your toilet.
If I’m ever out of town with people who aren’t my parents and someone else is taking care of me, I just hold it. I would hold it the whole time. It’s like self-inflicted constipation. Regardless of the whole toilet clogging thing, I don’t want to have to ask someone else to wipe my butt afterward. It’s just awkward. If I’m on the road with someone who’s not family…I just don’t go.
As I’m writing this I’m thinking “who could possibly want to read this” I’m writing it anyway
Because this is something you deal with when you are handicapped. Everybody deals with it, but I would wager that most of you don’t need help on the toilet. Trust me, needing help changes everything. When I’m rich I hope to get a bidet or something similar so that maybe I don’t need quite so much help. I’m looking on Amazon as I type. It seems you don’t have to be rich to own one. For some reason I feel like to have one in your house, you must meet Robin Leach as a requirements first. Your question for the day dear reader. Do you have one and do you like it?
Thanks to https://www.pinterest.com/sandrawalling/handicapped/ for the graphic