Ever productive, I have thought of a new invention during my colitis-induced hiatus: portable toilet seats. Seriously! How many times have you done the hover-squat in a public restroom? Chosen a bush over the port-a-potty poo-pourri at a concert? Lived on a farm where you couldn’t tell if the yellow drops on the seat emanated from a human or from the giant wasp living in the bathroom wall?
Sometimes shit happens, without a real reason or explanation – often defying all reason and explanation – and you just have to take it in stride. What a particularly apt phrase for my current predicament! Ulcerative colitis* tracked me down in my rainforest getaway and I’ve left the chocolate farm early for some good old fashioned American health care. But I haven’t finished telling you all about the wonders of rainforest chocolate making! Through whom will you live vicariously?! Well, luckily my blog-posting schedule got a little constipated the past few weeks, so I still have plenty of anecdotes and photos to share from before my crappy departure. Stay tuned. And in celebration of my awesome experience and to thumb my nose at my immune system**, I hope you enjoy all the poopy puns!
A better world is possible – one in which the only germs you sit on are your own, one in which articles like this become obsolete. And imagine the fringe benefits for IBD sufferers and lovers of Mexican food alike! Personalized seats means molded to sus nalgas for extended visits! (I learned useful words in Costa Rica.) Why not make the porcelain throne a real throne for the body part that puts up with the most crap? Imagine what Brookstone could do if they took this idea and ran with it.
*Don’t know anything about ulcerative colitis? Are these jokes going over your head? Learn more at www.ccfa.org and at www.mayoclinic.org.
**Don’t want to read my musings on the colitis experience? Luckily you can excise this reality from your life much more expediently than I, and I encourage you to navigate your browser back to a world where ladies don’t poop and we only fart fairy dust and glitter.