I don't eat mushrooms anymore
When I get home late at night, one of my favorite snacks used to be sauteed mushrooms simmered in cooking sherry. Sounds good huh? Well it was, until Tuesday morning.
Tuesday morning started off unlike any other. I awoke to my stomach gurggling for about 10 seconds straight. Gurggling I say!!! Gurggling and stomach don't usually belong in the same sentence, but in this case nothing describes the goings-ons of my stomach better than the word gurggling. A shudder of fear pulsed through out my body. I knew trouble was a foot.
I layed there, not really sure what to do next. That decision was made for me in the next few seconds by another loud rumbling from much, much lower in my bowels. At this point my cats had jumped off the bed and were hiding under the dresser. With doom just seconds around the corner, I sprinted up the stairs (I live in the basement, and no, I'm not a troll) to my bathroom, now in a cold sweat.
With a slam of the door, I dropped my boxers and thought that relief was moments away. I realize now that I could not have been more wrong. It was at this point that I became supremely aware of the severe stomach cramps that I had some how managed to block out...until now. Knowing what I had to do, and thanking the lord that I was home alone, I relaxed my ass muscles and tried to gently take a dump.
I'm not religous, I didn't really believe in heaven or hell. But now I know hell exists, because that morning my ass was the gateway, and deamons flew from it like so many bats from a dark, dank cave. I'll spare you the details, but just know that the next 37 minutes of my life I would not wish on my worst enemy. There were many times when I wished for death. Other times I had my face my tiny little garbage can because the stench was actually making me gag.
And speaking of the stench, in my haste to make it to the toilet I had neglected to turn on the bathroom's fan. Now, I sat gasping for air, realizing that the 3 feet from the toilet across the sink to the light/fan switch might as well be 3 miles. And no, I didn't dare lift my ass off seat and "break the seal" only to unleash the majority of the stench that was concentrated below me. Why not flush you ask? I never flush while on the pot. I've always had this fear of a back up, only to have all that ass-water swirling around my butt cheeks and spilling onto my pants.
So I sat there, wallowing in my own stench, not sure when it would end. Many times I wiped and tried to run for freedom, only to have another gyser of shit and gas spew from my now numb asshole. I must have gone through a whole roll of toilet paper. I can't be sure because I do believe at one point I blacked out.
Finally the worst was over. I did the final wipe, stood up and flushed. Thank the Lord it all went down. My trips to the bathroom for the rest of the day were frequent and troublesome, but nothing like that morning.
I couldn't eat for two days, as it took that long for my stomach to stop cramping. When I finally did eat, it was some plain chicken about an hour before I went to bed. The next morning I woke up feeling gassy, and worried. However this time it was just my body getting back on track. I let out a good long 12 second fart that echoed that I still remember today. It was great, I laughed even. And with that I knew everything was going to be alright.
And so I've decided that I'm never eating mushrooms again.
this is in or around Bathroom floor. Crying.