Poopy Pants

Yesterday, I enjoyed a wonderful Sunday brunch with Barbara. We planned our day and decided to attend an outdoor theater event in Berkeley.

We both made numerous trips back and forth from the house to the car loading our provisions for a picnic: sunscreen, water, picnic lunch, ice chest, etc. At one point I pooped in my pants then off to the bathroom. As I sat on the john I planned my next steps.

"Barbara, could you bring my suitcase back in the house please?" I yelled.

She came down the hall and asked. "Sure, I can get it. What's going on?"

"I pooped in my pants and I need some anti-diarrhea pills" I answered.

"I am sorry. How many pills do you need?" She inquired.

"Two." I answered back. "Will you help me with this mess?"

Barbara showed me the cleaning supplies in her bathroom and then opened the pill blister pack then brought me a glass of water.

"Do you want to step into the shower and clean yourself?" Barbara posed as she handed me a glass of water and two pills to swallow.

"Thanks" I replied feeling very supported. I took my medicine as Barbara handed me a towel.

"Doug you aren't the only one who poops in their pants" Barbara announced. "I read your blog about the bowel control issues and I just want you to know that it happens to me too. I have Irritable Bowel Syndrome. I have bowel control issues too. Changes in routine effects me too. You need to talk about it sweetie. This is normal."

"Thanks for reminding me. I forgot again that I'm not the only one who has poopy pants." I responded as I began to clean the toilet and rinse my underwear in the sink.

It has been three years now since the doctor removed half my colon. My body has healed but now I do not have the reservoir to hold stool. I don't get the message that I have to poop until the last minute so I still poop in my pants and still feel a bit ashamed.

"Did I pack and second pair of underwear in my suitcase?" I asked.

"No, I don't see any" Barbara answered.

I stepped into the shower, changed my attitude and washed away that poopy pants problem. I was going on a picnic with Barbara it is time to have fun. We had a great time in the park seeing a theatre production with friends.

Later that evening Barbara returned to Santa Cruz but required three stops to use the restroom on the way home. Same problem as I had in the morning. Barbara determined that it was the yummy Sunday brunch was the cause.

I am so glad I am able to talk about this when it happens. I feel so accepted by Barbara. I am a lucky guy to have a lady in my life who is so understanding!

Lloyd's Bruise

“Lloyd How are you?” I asked as I opened the door to the men’s locker room at the Oakland YMCA.

“I fell on my butt when I hit a rock skiing at Squaw Valley yesterday” Lloyd said. He dropped his gym bag and pulled down his pants. One cheek that had a black and blue bruise.

Lloyd had no shame. The door of the men’s locker room was ajar when I saw his butt cheek. Women were entering their locker room a few feet away this didn’t disturb Lloyd.

“Look at this Lloyd!” I pulled down my pants to reveal my 9-inch incision from my abdominal surgery. Not to be outdone by Lloyd. We blocked the door to the men's locker room.

This was dueling scars. Injury and story. We entered the locker room to catch up on our lives. I hadn't seen Lloyd for weeks.

“So you come to the Y to sit in the Jacuzzi for your butt bruise? That looks painful!" I commented.

“Not to bad. It only hurts if I sit down. I will do some stretching and swim a few laps to ease my tight muscles.” Lloyd replied. "then the Jacuzzi."

“How did you get that scar, Doug?” Lloyd inquired. He hung his street clothes in a locker and put on a Speedo swimsuit.

“Colon cancer, stage three, diagnosis was October, abdominal resection after Halloween then six weeks recovery.” I replied as I checked out my locker to find clean white socks to wear. The words just tumbled out of my mouth.

“Did the surgeon remove all the cancer? Lloyd asked as he weighted himself on the scale.

You could see the bones through the skin on Lloyd's body. He just weights himself for fun.

“Yes, now I have six months of chemo and radiation treatments.” I replied trying to be as casual about the next phase of my cancer treatment. Telling the story took some of the sting out of it.

“You’ll do fine Doug. I have many friends who have beaten cancer. You are a fighter plus you have a positive attitude. That will get you through. I will say a prayer for your speedy recovery.” Lloyd walked to the showers and turned the corner and was gone.

I paused a few minutes. I realized it was great to be back at the YMCA again to see my friends. I sat starring at my locker and realized how lucky I was to be alive.

“What’s the story on that scar?” Henry asked as he spun the tumblers of his combination lock. "Haven't seen you around the Y for a few weeks." Seven AM. Henry is right on time.

“I had surgery six weeks ago.” I replied. Didn't want to tell the whole story again.

“You be careful and go easy. Don’t hurt yourself.” Henry advised. Henry was 70. The man was known for the best Gumbo in Oakland and his band played great zydaco music.

“It is going to take a while to rebuild my adnominal muscles. Think I will swim a few laps in the pool with Lloyd.” I thought out loud.Lloyd was amazing. He was 85 years old and he still alpine skis, windsurfs, lifts weights and God knows what else.

Henry carried his shaving kit to the mirrors for his morning shave. Henry and his buddies lined up and shaved together every morning. They chatted about grand children and sports.

“Yes, someday when I grow up I want to be just like Lloyd.” I said walking toward the pool.