Option A. Find a bathroom Option B. Shit my pants

This is a little story for my fellow crohnies. As some of you may know I have crohns disease. You can Google it, but pretty much if we were playing Oregon Trail, I would be the one dying of dysentery first. You get the idea. If you don’t know what Oregon Trail is, then you had a deprived childhood.

It had been kind of a long day and I needed to get some exercise. I was going to go biking, but I have had a cold and sometimes I push it too hard on the bike, so I decided to run instead. I don’t really love running, so I was unconcerned that I would attempt to push it too hard. I mean let’s be serious here. Anyways, about 3 miles out I got that little feeling like “oh hey, I might need to hit up a bathroom sometime in the nearish future.” For normal people this is not generally an issue. For a person with crohns this is a more time sensitive concern. 

I hit my turn around point and was feeling pretty good. The stomach was a little rumbly, but I was confident I would make it the 3 miles back to my house. After about a half mile I started to view bushes and hedges as possible shitting locations. I quickly realized that the remainder of this run was probably not going to happen without some sort of uncomfortable situation. I was fairly certain there was a park at the next path, road intersection and started to pray that there may be bathroom facilities there. That was still a half mile away though and I was seriously questioning that I could make it that far. I continued to jog until the park was in view and there did appear to be a bathroom facility of sorts. It was less than a quarter mile away, but at that point I had gone into self talk, deep breathing mode. One step at a time. You can do this. It’s not that far. You are NOT going to shit your pants right here!

I finally made it there. As I reached for the door, panic swept over me and for a split second I freaked out. What if the door is locked?  Closed after six? Some sick joke the universe was about to play on me to kill all my hopes and dreams of simply using a toilet instead of a bush or my shorts. The panic was also brought on by the fact that I had about 3 seconds before all hell would break loose in front of families playing baseball. To say I was relieved when the door was indeed unlocked would be a vast understatement.

I had made it! Life was good! Possible pants shitting situation had been averted. Though this all took place in maybe a 10 minute time lapse, I promise you it felt like an hour. So next time you are out running or biking and your feeling kind of tired or unmotivated, just be happy you don't also feel the need to shit your pants. 

It's Kind Of a Funny Story

We all encounter crazy things in life. Some we see coming miles away and others catch us completely off guard. In this particular case I was not prepared in any way for what was about to happen to me. It had a very lasting effect on me and I now have a mild anxiety attack any time anything gets near my ears.You will completely understand why soon.

I had been pretty stressed and decided a quick little mountain bike ride would be the perfect cure. I was half way through the ride when I felt something on my ear. Mind you, I was in motion on my bike and this whole scenario should not be possible. Anyways, like any normal human being I brushed my ear.  Whatever it was did not want to leave the vicinity of my ear and I brushed at it again. This was a mistake. It prompted the foreign predator to crawl inside my ear. The bike ride came to a halt as every fiber in my being began to freak out and I could now hear wings inside my head.The self calming talk kicked in immediately. “Don’t worry its probably a lady bug, or a fly, or a moth, or any other random insect with wings. Little kids stick crap in their ears all the time and they are fine. I will just go to the hospital and they will remove said invader and all will be fine.”  As I began to accept the situation and calm myself down, I was dropped to my knees by the most searing pain I have ever experienced.

All forms of calm were gone. Whatever was in my ear was a deadly bug that was trying to eat it’s way to my brain. My hearing would be lost, it was going to eat my brain, I was going to pass out and die right there on the trail. I was positive that all of these things were true. This also leads me to believe I have seen too many horror movies, but anyways. There was no hope of bringing the bike with me as each instance of searing pain crippled me and was complimented with what were later described as blood curdling screams. In the midst of the screams, and sobs, and pain I was somehow able to call my boss to come take me to the hospital. My work place has a trail system, which I was riding, thus why I called my boss. 

While all this was going on a fellow rider had heard my cries and found me crawling to the trail head. I swore on everything there was something in my ear. He checked my ear and tried to reason with me that there was nothing there. So, now I was not only in the worst pain of my life I was also insane, perfect. I think the pure terror in my eyes finally convinced him otherwise. He came up with the wonderful plan to use my Gatorade to drown the flesh eating mutant in my ear. I was thinking the situation really couldn’t get much worse; when another rider came up on the trail and to my ultimate dismay, it was the president of my company. Completely shaken, with a bug slowly dying in my ear the president of the company grabbed my bike and escorted me from the trails. Not the ideal way to meet the president, but at least it was memorable. 

Upon arrival to the hospital it was confirmed that it was not a flesh eating mutant bug in my ear, but a wasp. For all intents and purposes, they are one in the same to me now.  I had been stung somewhere between 20 and 30 times in my ear canal and ear drum. The nurses tried to flush it out with water and were completely unsuccessful. After 2 hours of what could be considered some sick form of prison torture, I started to faint. I  accepted that this wasp and I were now one and it was not coming out of my ear ever. I wouldn’t let the nurses come near me and gave up. Then one of the geniuses announces “Oh. Well we have an ear nose throat doctor in the hospital. Would u like to go see him?”  Why yes. Why yes I would. Why in the hell didn’t you mention that 2 hours ago!?!?! 

The ENT Doc took one look and informed me "Well this is really really going to hurt, but don't move, if the wasp breaks when I am extracting it, you'll need surgery."  Well that's just super. He wasn't kidding, it hurt like hell. Thankfully, three hours after the little mutant crawled in there, my ear was finally wasp free. So the next time you are having a really bad day, just remember there could be a wasp in your ear.