one girl, two cups (TMIT)

a tradition, nay a weekly national holiday devised by lilu. all the TMIs are apparently here for your viewing pleasure. my latest foray into the awesomely bad TMI. here goes...

i believe i told you about my intestinal issues previously. and i believe i told you why. and i believe i told you that i might, in fact, have to send in a "sample" to a "lab" for "testing."*

and i what i meant by that was that.... i had to poop in a cup. what? yes, i had to ... do ... that for "testing purposes." i definitely have issues with gluten (wheat). the doctor decided that i needed to eat wheat for approximately nine thousand years to determine if it will kill me or just result in constant diarrhea.

obviously this whole situ was going to culminate in this very post where i can tell the wonderful peoples about my wonderful experience. because nobody else seems to be interested in the pooping. in the cup. weird.

first of all, the frickin kit (when i finally got the shipping figured out) took FOUR - EV- ER to come in the mail. i was checking the mailbox like a little old lady hoping for her last remaining link to outside world. you know the one, in movies, going to mailbox, nothing inside. "so sad my granddaughter eliza didn't send me a card. well, i'll check it again in five minutes when i've forgotten i already checked it. i'm old."

the kit contained- actually back up, (ha!) i knew the kit was coming monday and i knew i wouldn't be able to hold "things" in until the mail came. my grip is no so goo on the wheat. sooo, i was going to get a "sample" and refridge it until lunch time when i would send it off. i had my trusty yogurt container and well, yeah, "did the deed" in the container and not in the toilet. i was wearing gloves and then i had a gallon zip-lock waiting to put that inside.

there was a container of poo in my fridge. in my fridge. i didn't tell chuck.

it did NOT come on monday as originally planned. "surely it's coming tuesday!" i said to myself. then i had to remind myself to not call myself shirley. i hate it when i do that to... myself. anywho, poop's still in the fridge.

then wednesday: it's gonna be in the mail box at lunch. right? i took the "sample" with me when i left my house after lunch. checked the box. wrong. nothing. now i have a "sample" in the car with me and whatdoido? i put my containered and ziplocked poo in the dumpster near where i work. and then i thought, what if there's a murder around here and the murderer dumps the body. never mind about her, they're gonna find my poo, DNA test it and ask me why on earth my poo's in a yogurt container covered by a baggie? and then i'll get blamed for the murder because it's a short jump from pooing in a yogurt container for fun to murder. it's a gateway, really.

aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah!

i called the lab. "it should be there." she says. ya think? "we can send you a new kit... but i'll have to charge you ten dollars." another ten to poo in a cup. shit (ha!). she assured me that the kit would arrive the next day. it would arrive at lunchtime(ish). i would be ready once again.

wednesday i found another suitable container. and morning time is.... the right time. so... yeah. back in the fridge. got my kit that night. instructions said to freeze it. there's poo in my freezer! then sent it in to the laboratory the next morning.

so, that was traumatic. and i had to tell chuck about freezer poop. because i had a nightmarish scenario in my head: "hey! what's this in the freezer? is it-" "noooooooooooooooooooo! don't touch it!" and i bat it out of his hands and then it tumbles to the floor and ... well... you know. so i said, "my 'sample' is in the freezer," all business like, ending further discussion. of course, he says, "there's diarrhea in the freezer?" and i said, "chuck! don't be gross!" which is, ironic? yes? or not? oh god, that word is never going to be the same because of that song. hmmm... that's ironical. ironing.

oddly, i was fine with fridge poo. i guess because he doesn't eat my yogurt. which sounds sexual but it's not. (because he does eat my yogurt, if you know what i mean. andithinkyoudo.) sorry, i had to leave on a non-pooing in a cup sort of vibe. dammit. not that i have "yogurt" in my "little becky" (ha!). because that would just add a whole 'nother heaping tablespoon of TMI. aw, heck, a half cup. because i don't. it's fabulous down there. really. you would be impressed. shiny.

and that's the story. about the time. chuck said, "diarrhea."


*yes i am aware that i use "quotes" too much but i "like them" and i "don't care."