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chochiyo_samaRemember I said I had two dreadful doom-like experiences in my last post. Well, this one involves a truly "shitty" experience.
Ever since I started taking medication for atrial flutter, I have had terrible issues with frequent, urgent, explosive bowel movements--usually but not always in the form of diarrhea. In addition to that, my two recently adopted 6 month old cats are very confident that they are the bosses of the universe and that there is no need for them to be concerned about my freedom to move about my house. What I mean by that is that they hurry to get in front of me and then flop down on the floor in front of me and refuse to move.
Because my mobility is very compromised, I am leery of stepping over them as they immediately stretch out to fill more space or flop over to the other side to block my foot. I live in fear of stepping on them when they do this, hurting them and causing myself to fall. My greatest fear about falling is that I will land on my knees and shatter them to pieces and be crippled for life or that I will fall on the cat and kill him. As annoying and wretched as they are, I love them and do not want them hurt.
Now, earlier in the evening, I had put on my nightgown, thinking I would go to bed right after the show I was watching ended. I do not wear underwear to bed, so I was commando. The cats were all frolicking about the house when I had that "uh-oh" feeling that tells me explosive diarrhea is imminent.
Getting up from the chair is hard due to the mobility issues, so I got up carefully, anxious to get to the bathroom as soon as possible. William immediately rushed in front of me and sprawled out in the short hallway between the living room and the bathroom.
"MOVE," I yelled, clenching my sphincter as tight as I could. He stretched himself out as far as he could and looked up at me as if to say, "I'm so cute! Am I not the cutest thing you've ever seen?"
"MOVE!" I said again, almost screaming it. He flipped and flopped like a fish out of water, not moving out of the way at all.
Because disaster was imminent, I attempted to step over him. He flung himself in front of my foot and I grabbed at the wall to keep from falling. As I did this, I stumbled and lost control. Excrement spewed out of me like lava from Mount St. Helens. There was a trail from the beginning of the hallway into the bathroom as I staggered to the toilet, sobbing. It was all over the floor, all over the purple bathroom rugs, all over the toilet, all over my nightgown, all over me. There was also a nasty stream of crap from the back of William's neck to his tail and another big splotch on one of his legs.
I sobbed in frustration and disgust while screaming, "GODDAMN YOU! LOOK WHAT YOU MADE ME DO! I HATE YOU!! I HATE YOU!!"
He followed me into the bathroom, staring at me with his eyes huge. He didn't seem to notice he was covered in shit himself. I sat there on the toilet, covered in shit, crying and peeling my nasty nightgown off, hoping that I did not get any of it in my hair. I tossed the nightgown in the garbage--it was old and faded and pretty threadbare anyway so it was no great loss.
First I cleaned myself up, then I cleaned up the toilet, the wall where it splattered while I was taking off the night gown, the rugs which I then put in the laundry hamper to wash later, the floor, and finally William. First I cleaned the bulk off with paper towels, then I scrubbed him down with a wash cloth. I got him as clean as I could. He did not enjoy it and fought me but I overpowered him and forcefully scrubbed him down before he could get it all over anything else. He smelled like poop for two days afterwards, but he groomed himself pretty well after I messed up his fur by scrubbing it.
I forgave him within a few minutes after I and everything else were no longer covered in shit.
He, of course, has learned NOTHING and has flopped himself in front of me nearly every time I am trying to get from one spot to another. I have a spray bottle, but it doesn't seem to be effective on him. He just lays there and looks at me.
So, that is Doom 2. What a shit (literally SHIT) day.
Ever since I started taking medication for atrial flutter, I have had terrible issues with frequent, urgent, explosive bowel movements--usually but not always in the form of diarrhea. In addition to that, my two recently adopted 6 month old cats are very confident that they are the bosses of the universe and that there is no need for them to be concerned about my freedom to move about my house. What I mean by that is that they hurry to get in front of me and then flop down on the floor in front of me and refuse to move.
Because my mobility is very compromised, I am leery of stepping over them as they immediately stretch out to fill more space or flop over to the other side to block my foot. I live in fear of stepping on them when they do this, hurting them and causing myself to fall. My greatest fear about falling is that I will land on my knees and shatter them to pieces and be crippled for life or that I will fall on the cat and kill him. As annoying and wretched as they are, I love them and do not want them hurt.
Now, earlier in the evening, I had put on my nightgown, thinking I would go to bed right after the show I was watching ended. I do not wear underwear to bed, so I was commando. The cats were all frolicking about the house when I had that "uh-oh" feeling that tells me explosive diarrhea is imminent.
Getting up from the chair is hard due to the mobility issues, so I got up carefully, anxious to get to the bathroom as soon as possible. William immediately rushed in front of me and sprawled out in the short hallway between the living room and the bathroom.
"MOVE," I yelled, clenching my sphincter as tight as I could. He stretched himself out as far as he could and looked up at me as if to say, "I'm so cute! Am I not the cutest thing you've ever seen?"
"MOVE!" I said again, almost screaming it. He flipped and flopped like a fish out of water, not moving out of the way at all.
Because disaster was imminent, I attempted to step over him. He flung himself in front of my foot and I grabbed at the wall to keep from falling. As I did this, I stumbled and lost control. Excrement spewed out of me like lava from Mount St. Helens. There was a trail from the beginning of the hallway into the bathroom as I staggered to the toilet, sobbing. It was all over the floor, all over the purple bathroom rugs, all over the toilet, all over my nightgown, all over me. There was also a nasty stream of crap from the back of William's neck to his tail and another big splotch on one of his legs.
I sobbed in frustration and disgust while screaming, "GODDAMN YOU! LOOK WHAT YOU MADE ME DO! I HATE YOU!! I HATE YOU!!"
He followed me into the bathroom, staring at me with his eyes huge. He didn't seem to notice he was covered in shit himself. I sat there on the toilet, covered in shit, crying and peeling my nasty nightgown off, hoping that I did not get any of it in my hair. I tossed the nightgown in the garbage--it was old and faded and pretty threadbare anyway so it was no great loss.
First I cleaned myself up, then I cleaned up the toilet, the wall where it splattered while I was taking off the night gown, the rugs which I then put in the laundry hamper to wash later, the floor, and finally William. First I cleaned the bulk off with paper towels, then I scrubbed him down with a wash cloth. I got him as clean as I could. He did not enjoy it and fought me but I overpowered him and forcefully scrubbed him down before he could get it all over anything else. He smelled like poop for two days afterwards, but he groomed himself pretty well after I messed up his fur by scrubbing it.
I forgave him within a few minutes after I and everything else were no longer covered in shit.
He, of course, has learned NOTHING and has flopped himself in front of me nearly every time I am trying to get from one spot to another. I have a spray bottle, but it doesn't seem to be effective on him. He just lays there and looks at me.
So, that is Doom 2. What a shit (literally SHIT) day.