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The IBS Diaries Vol. 10

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“Hey Dad, I was on national radio today.”

“That’s great son! What did you talk about?”

“…Not important.”

Welcome back Irritable Bowel America. This week we have an entry from someone who has IBS and is lactose intolerant. Double penetration. Right when you think you have it bad you see guys like this still getting out of bed every morning. The milk shits are a different monster that I know little about so let’s hand the floor over to Anonymous for a page out of his life.

I was 24 at the time and newly married and went to dinner with my wife, her parents, and my wife’s brother and sister.  We all drove together and since I was expecting to go home right after, I didn’t worry about what I was going to eat since I could just take care of business shortly there after.  Once we were done, her mom suggested we go and get ice cream.  Even though I’m lactose intolerant, I couldn’t pass up the chance at a Peanut Buster Parfait so again thinking going right home and my stomach feeling fine, I said lets go for it.  We finished up eating our ice cream and I felt some rumblings, but I knew I would be home soon so didn’t worry.

We all piled in their van and I noticed we were going the opposite way.  I nudged my wife and whispered to her about where we were going.  She asked her mom and the response is that she wanted to go for a walk at a local metroparks.  That is where the panic set in.  I was getting near the 5 minute warning and I expected we would be out for at least another hour.  I felt the sweats building and my wife knew what was happening.  I looked at her and whispered that I had to go. I was too embarrassed so she had to ask her dad to pull over at a gas station so I could go to the bathroom.

Once you tell another person about your current situation, you’re dragging said person into the grace period with you. Now they’re an audience member to a live suspense thriller. Being passenger in someone else’s car at the time of the 2 minute warning call is one of few instances that constitutes telling another party. There’s nothing else you can do, you need them to work with you here. If you’re on a road trip, you can’t just keep watching every Oasis pass you by just because you don’t want to cause a scene amongst unfamiliar co-passengers. You have to say something and the sooner the better. Never want to cause yourself to drop the “it’s an emergency” line on them later.


With 2 minutes remaining, let’s lay out what Anonymous has going for him here:

Potential witnesses: The in-laws, also in control of the vehicle. Passive aggressive backseat driving may come into play if it needs to.

Pants situation: Unknown.

Current form of transit: Car, passenger.

Nearest restroom: Gas station. Most require a key, often attached to a nunchuck or 2 x 4, so this could go into extra innings last second.

 As we pull into the parking spot, I don’t even pay attention to my surroundings and rush in and ask the guy where the bathrooms are.  He tells me to hold on as he is finishing up with a customer who seems to be taking an eternity as I am trying to keep it in.  He then hands me a bathroom key with a big handle on it and says its around the corner outside.  Panic again as I go outside and realize that my father in law is parked facing the bathroom.  As I wave to them and go in I pray it will all come out quickly.

In my experiences, it’s better to exhibit to the gas station tenant that you are clearly dealing with an emergency. Skip the small talk and cut to the chase. We’re all adults here.

I’m trying to get it all out and at this point I realize that it is painfully obvious I didn’t need to rush in just to pee and panic mode happens again.  I hear banging on the door and hear a guy yelling he has to go to the bathroom.

The dreaded Warning Knock. Such a cold hard cuck every time. Now the shit becomes more of a business transaction and less of a scroll session. There’s a fellow falling soldier waiting on you, a position you’ve been on the wrong side of the door for plenty of times, so you hurry it up out of pure empathy.

*Puts phone away* JUST A SEC.

I think I’m done so I start to wipe.  I for sure needed a shower but kept wiping and wiping and wiping until I was clean enough and when I went to flush it was slow going down.  I heard more banging on the door and rushed out without seeing if it was clogged or not.  When I opened the door, there was an 80 year old man with a cane who may have had his own story of shitting his pants.


When I got in the van, everyone was laughing their asses off.  I sat down in shame and didn’t talk as we drove to the park.  I found out from my wife that as the 80 year old man was banging on the door, he was also grabbing his own ass in an attempt to keep it in.  The guys exact words were “I have to go to the bathroom.”  My wife and I have been married for 16 years and that man’s quote has been said several times over the years by those who were in the van.

There was A LOT on the line if this were to have gone south but we got the happy ending we needed. Beautiful bonus by gaining an inside joke with the in-laws with the “I have to go to the bathroom” from this. Couldn’t have gone down better. You gotta figure that your in-laws needed to find out sooner or later anyways. Better that it became revealed in a comical way instead of a horrifying/tragic one – like them finding out via your weekly internet blog series about it.

Thanks for sharing again this week everyone, send in your stories for next time


Catch up on some past diaries:

IBS Diaries Vol 1.

IBS Diaries Vol 2.

IBS Diaries Vol 3.

IBS Diaries Vol 4.

IBS Diaries Vol 5: Blizzard Beach

IBS Diaries Vol 6: Hotel HotBox

IBS Diaries Vol 7: Hand Soap Showers

IBS Diaries Vol 8: Fried Egg Run

The IBS Diaries Vol. 9: The IBS Queen