I bought flushable wipes while at the store with my mom the other day, and she said, “You better hide those from your boyfriend.” And I was like, “What? Why?” “Because some things just need to be kept a secret, Abby.” “Are you kidding? If Shad wasn’t well-aware and okay with my intestines, we would have a serious problem. And what if he wants to share my butt wipes and I’m hiding them? That wouldn’t be very nice.” My mom didn’t respond.
Happy IBS Awareness Month, everyone! This is a little bit about how I deal with Irritable Bowel Syndrome every day. While I often have diarrhea, some people also have IBS with constipation and most IBS includes bouts of both.
I wish no one had a problem with diarrhea. I’ve been dealing with stomach issues since fifth grade, so I’m used to it. I’m used to scouting out the nearest bathrooms anywhere I go in case of emergencies. I laugh at poop jokes because they describe my everyday life. But, I don’t think the movie Bridesmaids is funny because the whole pooping in the sink and street scene just hits a little too close to home for me.
Doctors make me feel like I’m constantly crying wolf because I don’t frequently have blood in my stool—the keyword is “frequently” because I have done tests where I have to put a pad in the toilet water and send it in to a lab to test for blood—and one was positive…but it was only a little bit…so it’s fine. Apparently, it’s just “typical IBS” to not be able to eat anything without feeling gassy, having diarrhea, or having such bad stomach pain that you vomit and pass out. That’s “typical.”
“It feels like tiny elves are mining in my intestines,” I said to my boyfriend. “Elves?” “Yes, elves. Or maybe dwarves like Snow White…Either way, there are pickaxes in there.” He scrunched his face up in confusion and concern and patted my belly.
I always bring my phone into the bathroom with me—not necessarily because I need entertainment, but mostly in case there’s an emergency and I need someone to call an ambulance. Sometimes I just sit there and pray the pain goes away. And then, I’m supposed to hide my issues and hold in my farts and worry that someone heard something while I was in the bathroom. Every time I’m in the car with someone who doesn’t know me well, I worry I’m going to have an attack and have to ask them to pull over at a gas station so I can poop. “Like now. Right now. Pull over.”
While it is tempting to judge and make fun of the lady farting and having diarrhea in the stall next to you—put yourself in her shoes. She, like me, could have just pulled over at a Kroger and stood in line while ten people mysteriously all had to use the Kroger bathroom at the same time. She, like me, could have just narrowly escaped pooping her pants. Honestly, we should be cheering for her—”You’ve got this, lady! You made it!” I would accept this, and maybe some sympathy, instead of judgment any day.
So, this IBS Awareness Month, think about how hard it is for people who have diarrhea all the time. Take a few steps toward poop acceptance today, kids.
Lavender Fischer 