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Fairfax Underground
Welcome to Fairfax Underground, a project site designed to improve communication among residents of Fairfax County, VA. Feel free to post anything Northern Virginia residents would find interesting.
I'm grateful for the bowel battalion here. It's so good to know that screaming like a coyote caught in a trap, with legs kicking the bathroom door, has been experienced by others. We will not gnash our teeth out in pain, without another human being enduring the painful process.
For us a commode is a reminder of agony. Of unloading waste in our intestines that seems to never end. The color brown can make us sweat by sight alone, and those greasy fast food joints taken for granted by most are not for us.
It would be good if a 1800 number could be set up, like how Butterball does during Thanksgiving. That would be a great resource before, during, and after crapping a Dodge Dart.
I'm glad as well. The experience of this, how can I date women when I shit my Depends, and often piss in them? I don't want to date 80 year old women used to catheters and colostomy bags.
Today has been a bad one, but I have a new trick. In the front section above my genitals, I've found that a good place to store wet toilettes.
I'm still scrubbing shit out of the carpets. Sorry but I'm tired. I don't think a maid service would respond to this. If they did it would be expensive embarrassing. There's no excuse. The bedsheets are a easy fix in the washing machine.
I forgot who bravely shared an experience with their bowels, but now I've decided to put my shit on the line, as this could be therapeutic. Years ago I was at my aunt Edna's house, for a family holiday gathering. It should have been festive, but a rather large yuletide log quashed that in a matter of seconds.
I enjoyed the hams, pumpkin pie, and Potato Casserole. I liked seeing my usually grumpy Uncle Charlie smile and do an Irish jig. Everything was perfect, as if this Martha Stewart Show atmosphere could go on forever.
Unfortunately that didn't last, as I couldn't contain my gas. It stunk, and seemed to permeate the living room, like some kind of toxic cloud. People started to look each other as if to cast blame, as if I was the Judas and sold away family heirlooms for thirty shekels.
My stomach told me all I needed to know. Doubled over in pain I ran into the bathroom. To my horror, the monster I dropped caused the toilet to overflow. Guests and family members got shoes of water with some extra ingredients. Ever since that moment, I realized my bowels betrayed me.
Thanks onion, I'm frustrated. I'm also worried about the office holiday party.
Since I'm already not liked, I don't want to go, and put applesauce and non buttered toast in ziploc bags. Its so unfair, no fudge, cheese, or candies.
Sodas and coffee are considered just a beverage by many. They are consumed without thought, and taken for granted by the general population.
While the intention of soda sales for commerce can be good, this can lead to unspoken horrors for those who have subpar bowels. One man's constitution might be as strong as the one penned years ago, while an IBS sufferer can be put into severe pain. There can be cramping, diarrhea, or constipation that's not good for your chocolate starfish or immune system.
Gordorsky Wrote:
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> Thanks onion, I'm frustrated. I'm also worried
> about the office holiday party.
>
> Since I'm already not liked, I don't want to go,
> and put applesauce and non buttered toast in
> ziploc bags. Its so unfair, no fudge, cheese, or
> candies.
Gordon,
Have you had a enzyme linked immunosorbent assay or radioalleegosorbent test done yet?
It's not stupid if your rear end, has let you down and is creating pain for you. It's not that if your forehead veins bulge out, and your skin complexion changes,while you are doing what most consider just another daily duty.
You are an asshole for ignoring the woes of people's assholes.
If you had a #1 or #10 on the Bristol stool guide, you would be pretty upset, and find this support helpful. One day when your ass hurts, remember your indifference.
BEH Wrote:
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> Damn, if only I could go without the feeling that
> I'm giving birth to a Sasquatch.
>
> I swear, sometimes it seems I need gynological
> stirrups and a surgical team just to take a dump.
Are you hydrated? Some crunches and situps can go a long way with intestinal health.
Chamomile tea can help relax your nerve cells a bit. Mustard seed, fennel, cumin and anise tea aid in digestion and relax the stomach muscles. Psyllium husk powder goes a long way too and can really clean out your system, also keeps you fuller longer.
Maybe your blood's pH is too acidic because of your diet. A little bit of baking soda in water once or twice a day helps bring your body back to the desired 7.3.
You could also be low on magnesium, most people are, especially if you drink or don't eat many greens. You can't poop well without magnesium.
I did a lemon water diet thing a few years ago for five days and didn't eat solid food that whole time. I was still pooping solids on day 5. Maybe you're full of shit.
Exceptional points Rockhound, I couldn't agree more with you, especially greens and water.
Bowels treated harshly are like a woman scorned,and can make ones life miserable in so many ways. Greens plus at least eight glasses of water a day, help the body break down food particles, and greatly improve the Chances of a #4.
You are what you eat and drink is solid advice, ignore that and its bowel screaming time.
Gordorsky Wrote:
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> Fudge, candy canes, and egg nog leads to
> projectile crap.
>
> Damn you December.
Duh, that's why you avoid those trigger foods and beverages.
Plus you don't have to wear piss and fecal soiled Depends, so you have nothing to bitch about.
Mr. Brown, all here are welcome to lament over their bowels of cement; all allowed to complain over every urine and fecal stain.
For all of us that suffer from the heartbreak of IBM know that it is not only the physical aspect of the dreaded condition that aggrieves us, but also the mental.
What would you want more than something that is forbidden?
Especially during the festivities of the holidays. While most celebrate a white Christmas, we get tickled over a decent elimination. Others feel joy over a long awaited gift...a gift for us is an entire day without smelling like a sewer or having a Picasso in our boxers.
So when one of my incontinent lambs anguishes over the love of forbidden treats I take great offense to any denegrading remarks concerning that anguish.
With all due respect sir, please keep your insensitive comments to yourself.
Gordorsky has a cross to bear,a foul smelling , nauseatingly splattered cross at that. He'd gladly wear a crown of thorns just to have one solid bowel movement over the holidays.
We're here to support each other in our weak moments, and to congtratulate our colonic comrades when they show strength.
Edited 1 time(s). Last edit at 12/16/2013 02:34PM by BEH.
When I left my house bathroom, I felt as I should have been given a cigar, with congrats on the birth of your baby. I almost expected to hear he or she is crowning, as this was a monster turd.
I'm hurting this morning, but think recovery is possible. It wasn't as painful as those jagged edge craps, that appear to be like rock formations. Rest, water, and getting back to regular status is today's goal.
BEH is right, I'm sorry Gordorsky. Please don't take it personally.
Yesterday I sat or you could say shat in my undergarments. It stinks in more ways then one. There are no women who want a man in his late 40s in Depends.
In a way I'm grateful, not too much leakage. But how did people in the 1700s deal with such inevitable messes?
BEH Wrote:
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> Just a word of advice... if your proctologists
> nickname is "Ringo" you might want to change
> doctors.
Okay I'm shaking at the thought of that.
The scopes, gloved hands are getting old. It's 2013 and we still have to contend with such invasive procedures, and there's not a thank you note or roses.
There is a bill of course. Paying for fingers in my ass, it is time for advancements in the field.
Gordo, I'm glad to hear that. I hope your coworkers are more understanding.
Last night I started to sweat, as I felt an unexpected special delivery arrive. I had no choice but to,run to the bathroom with all of the speed I could muster.
It was an awful experience. I think I shit out a basketball with stalagmites on it. I almost cried, and while the bleeding has stopped, healing from this one is going to take some time.
It's back to more of the same. My entire desk has Mr Poop Pants stickers and air fresheners. This is getting old. This just makes my abdomen cramp up, and there's no support from my co workers.
Your entire digestion system is incredibly delicate. Even the smallest problem can cause it to react poorly, leading to many different types of bowel problems that can cause anything from minor discomfort to significant distress.
Bowel problems are a common problem with anxiety, as the stress from anxiety alters hormones, changes digestion speeds, and puts significant pressure on your intestines.
Thus, dealing with the anxiety caused by the reactions of your co-workers to your bowel problem exacerbates the bowel problems.
There is sympathy for all other disease, nothing but scorn and ridicule for sufferers of IBM.
There's an American Heart Association, fundraisers for cancers, diabetes related drives, but for bowels? Shit.
I wish we could have a national group with chapters in every state. Or in every big city. Other disabilities and or conditions have a certain color, such as heart awareness month, breast cancer month. We should have a brown for IBS awareness. It's only fair after all.
Mister Fister Wrote:
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> Just fist away. That will clear things up.
That would be a terrible idea. I've had one patient this week with anal prolapse, and to put fists or inanimate objects in your rectum is dangerous. I haven't seen any write ups here from people engaged in alternative lifestyles, or those whom have anal sex with women, but either way its playing with fire.
That's gorgeous, a sterling clear example of a #4 #2. I would thank the gods of fecal matter, to drop off a load of such Rembrandt like qualities. Whoever passed that has helpful mucous, and a digestive system that should inspire everyone.
I'm thankful that BEH and a medical professional set the tone about anal activities. You aren't going to help this tissue infused area, by jamming objects up there. Exit only.
Toughy, we use humor to deal with our plight. Lord knows, we get no love or sympathy from society.
Even our doctors treat us with scornful disdain, carelessly roughing us up during exams.
Yes, the anticipation of the first colonoscope is enough to make even the most macho dude feel like an anxiety ridden, virginal bride on her wedding night.
That picture is disgusting, and even with my doctor rooting around and pillaging my asshole, the results haven't been that abysmal.
I sit here this morning with some thoughts. These are about the docs. How many people do they insert their fingers in on a daily basis? Do they have strong antibacterial soaps? Do their wives and kids, look at their father serving the salad,and wonder if they could get e coli? When making love, does the wife feel his fingers are dirty?
It's my hope the doctor here will answer these, because they are worthy of such. Also I'm curious about their medical school training, and if dealing with the assholes of assholes on a regular basis makes them so cold.
Maybe I'm giving this too much thought, but GI/Proctologists have a lot in common with us.
For instance if they say what they do at a large holiday get together, people are probably going to great lengths to go the other way. You can't sugarcoat sticking your fingers up peoples assholes everyday. Plus they work long hours, and probably deal with insurance companies all day, which for intensive purposes assholes themselves. We suffer from stigma, and bowels that betray us, but they also face challenges too.
Yet one thing that needs work besides a cure,is better adult undergarments. They are uncomfortable they lead to chafing, and don't always hold the entire finished product.
So far a good day, knock on wood. Plus no snickering or gag gifts as my fellow employees call them on my desk.
I had a kind doctor years ago, and he did say parties,social events were not to his liking. He would first answer doctor, then only when people asked more, brought up stomach digestion problems.I wish he did not retire.
Gordo you are lucky. I call my GI the ice man. It's bad enough having his cold fingers and other medical apparatus jammed in my ass, but I think he'd do better as a mortician.
The man doesn't smile, barely acknowledges you, and just throws on the gloves.
What is up with them, one has to wonder is there a Stepford wife medical school these doctors go through?
The last visit, I was told to disrobe, wear that smock. The assistant at least had some personality, polite.
Now admittedly I'm a bit scared. The doctor doesn't notice my unhappy face or body language. He basically grunted hello, jammed that finger up my ass, along with requesting a sample.
You are right and that's why I wonder, does looking at behinds, make them the assholes they are? It's as if they are in some sort of egotistical competition on this.
On a positive note I did enjoy a #4 #2 this morning. I felt like breaking out the champagne.
Fishy unless you can comprehend walking around in soiled underwear, or dealing with doctors who use medieval like practices on your chocolate starfish, you don't have a pot to piss in.
I have filed a complaint at work. A woman from HR is helping me. Her aunt has IBS. When you can't go to work without harassment. That has to stop. My boss is no help. He put an email out but the Poopy pants and air fresheners continues. It's not helping.
Did you know that fiber and or probiotics can help with digestion, along with lowering stress on your central nervous system. Your colon controls your brain, not the other way around as most assume. Drink lots of water, this greatly enhances the formation of waste into solid chunks.
I'm still so far okay today, no stomach cramps or skid marks.I just checked my underwear in the restroom, and they are clean thank goodness. I hope this continues because I'm happy with my bowels. It seems like we are on the same page.
Beh likewise I feel better, especially on a personal level, because our doctors can't relate with us. Anon Doc is proof of their cold, icy demeanor. Plus they know about what we contend with, but don't go through the daily grind.
I wish only for one day, just one, for my doctor to deal with IBS. Even just a minor case with that brown glaze in the starfish area, that we all know has a far more pungent odor then an actual bowel movement.
Do I want the doctors to be constantly be looking for that stall which is invisible at the mall, that leads to thoughts of shitting in the famous Bloomingdale brown bag? Not at all, nor would I wish them screaming like a crime scene occurred in the bathroom, or in extreme cases their underwear.
I hate this time of year. Others are smiling watching A Christmas Carol while I sit at home with boring foods. These people are lucky. No reason to complain at all. I think to years past when I could eat what I wanted to. Now even just a slight change to my diet can lead to awful results.
Mr Brown Underwear Wrote:
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> A fairly trouble free day but sick of the chafing.
> These Depends suck. While not a colostomy bag,
> they aren't much better.
This proves my point. I've dealt with laughter and crude acts at work. Once again it appears to come up again. Sorry Underwear as this poster might be one of my rude coworkers. We have a ways to go for respect.
I might have to listen to James Taylor, and eat more granola bars.
Last night I dropped a honey baked ham with all the trimmings, and the screaming and claw marks on the commode, are gonna be on my conciousness for some time.
A spam is painful enough, and while I'm glad to be home today, I'd advise people to invest in companies that manufacture ice packs.
Sunday morning I awoke to the sensation of having a basketball in my lower intestine.
I can't imagine even the notorious discomfort of childbirth surpassing the pain and tissue damage that I endured on that bowl.
Indeed, I was tempted to call a Midwife to assist with this agonizing elimination.
The combination of coffee, stool softener and an enema, all judiciously administered , finally caused the logjam to give way.
I managed not to scream, but my pathetic whimpers permeated throughout the household.
No wonder. Upon inspection , it was hard to fathom how a stool the size of a Mini Cooper was able to pass through my comparatively diminutive anal opening.
This phenomenon must be similar to that of the snake, whose jaws dislodge in order to consume animals much larger that the snake itself.
I managed to get by this time with a minimum of bleeding, but I had to ask myself, how much more can my poor Schphinkter endure?
Beh I'm sorry you had your weekend spoiled by the fire down below. It always seems to strike at the most inopportune times. I hope your intestines, colon, tissues, and ultimately your very own ass understands it wasn't personal.
I feel that way sometimes. Obviously I can't send my ass cards and a flowers, but I feel a lot of guilt. I think this exacerbates the condition, and I almost wish Barry White was still alive, so he could sing to my rear end with that golden voice, how I feel about the yelling, clawing, and overall abuse these parts have endured over the years.
I'm going to take a sitz bath, hoping to treat my bottom, with a modicum of respect this morning. Here's to both of us and our bowels, feeling better for Christmas.
That piece of fried chicken smells and looks so good.
The same could be said for that pizza.
Yet stop! These foods have to travel thirty plus feet, are not broken down efficiently by stomach acids, and aren't helpful to the mucous in your intestines before reaching the bowel region.
Think before you eat because this could be the difference between bliss and agony.
I don't know which is worse, the diarrhea I face, or your large craps.
HR was helpful, its nice to work with a representative who has an aunt with IBS. Any future Poopy Pants stickers or air fresheners on my desk, will result in discipline.
Trying to hold my bowels together. So far so good. My desk is clear of air fresheners and Mr Poopy Pants junk.I hope to enjoy the company party without snickering and rude jokes.
Nothing will send your Schphinter into a tailspin more effectively.
While my suffering may be giving anal birth to a baby rhino the next morning, your penalty manifests itself with more immediacy.
My co-workers will never know that as a result of my dietary indiscretions my ass gave itself an Episiotomy just to pass a logjam.
At the same time, one wrong nibble and you'll spend the entire Christmas party in a feces splattered stall.
If there is no Srdiecka , Bozicni Skofjeloski Kruhki, or Aguonu Sausainiukai , leave the snacks alone...enjoy mingling without your intestines jingling.
You and the other individual to even suggest a scat fetish, proves my point that doctors and the general public don't care about those with IBS. It's more than acceptable to discuss ones blood pressure or respiratory issues, but as soon as it involves your bowels let the scorn begin.
We are second class citizens. That's what we are, because even though we work our hearts out, once again its all about your ass not working properly. Until you have walked a mile o
In our brown shoes, you have nothing that's right nothing to complain about.
Saying we have a "scat fetish" is like saying a tuberculosis victim has a 'phlegm fetish'.
The word 'fetish' suggests some kind of strange desire , and I assure you, neither Blooming Onion, Gordorsky, or myself get a kick out of severe chronic uncontrollable diarrhea or painful tissue destroying constipation.
We're not only saddled with our affliction, we also have to deal with the resulting hate and ridicule from the insensitive public.
When it comes to the suffering of the afflicted, some people around here could use some sensitivity training.
Edited 1 time(s). Last edit at 12/27/2013 07:29AM by BEH.
I wish this person could JUST for ONE day experience IBS. When the shoe is on the other foot, its amazing how quickly people change their minds and open their hearts.
They are lucky they don't have to nearly cry, waiting for a stall at Nats Park. They don't have to be concerned about clogging up a toilet, or purchasing an expensive plunger instead of the standard one. They can eat pizza and wings, with no worries about dropping a Gemini space capsule in the water in the toilet. They don't bleed from behind, they get no abdominal cramping, or have to worry about their intestines not creating a #4 #2 that we rarely ever see.
That's correct, they are complacent about their stools, bowels, and digestive system in general.
I wish we could get a celebrity with IBS, who would step forward for us, along with a charity, organization, foundation to generate awareness, pressure NIH, and support us.
Instead its people judging us on our bowels, or that cold doctors finger.
How did your stomach and bowels hold up over the holidays? I found out that Christmas ham can't happen, and the cheese onions my sister made are on the no list now. She understands but they look and taste delicious.
Under we share your pain. Like you as a fellow human, I'm tempted by the seductive scents of many Christmas foods. What has helped me is water, and sadly avoiding some holiday events. It sucks but I do other things, which will not lead to biting on a thick leather strap while taking a dump.
Do this, have a "me day." I redbox some movies on the couch closest to the throne, and eat safe foods, drink water, take fiber drinks, etc. This solitude decreases stress, although there can't be any scary movies, or my bowels might betray me even more.
eesh Wrote:
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> Did someone mention Thai food yet? Tiger Cry steak
> will leave your bowels exhausted.
Aside from breads, dairy, and chocolates, that is the mother load. I think that would literally destroy what's left of my rear equipment, and it would look like those explosions from the movie Independence Day.
There are not nearly enough drawers, nor can I even think of how many tears that would lead to. The brown matter mixed in with shades of red and yellow spices, I shudder at the thought.
I just wish one day, this could stop. Christmas at my brother Ladislavs house was far from good.I'm glad to be back in town. My bedsheets being crapped in is alright. Ladislavs wife went off and said Christmas is over. She acted like a angry bebushka when discovering the bed in her guest room. My nephew's made fun of me and my butt is still a leaky sink.
Gordorsky Wrote:
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> I just wish one day, this could stop. Christmas at
> my brother Ladislavs house was far from good.I'm
> glad to be back in town. My bedsheets being
> crapped in is alright. Ladislavs wife went off and
> said Christmas is over. She acted like a angry
> bebushka when discovering the bed in her guest
> room. My nephew's made fun of me and my butt is
> still a leaky sink.
Gordon,
If you had the tests ran that I suggested, you would not be in this predicament.
I'm so sorry for your misfortune Gordorsky, I hope you can recover mentally as well as physically.
Maybe now would be a good time to surprise your brother and sister in law with a new Sealy's Posturepedic bed, and some fresh sheets from Bed Bath and Beyond.
Such gestures can be useful. We do have unusual lives.
Buffalo Wing Factory, no joke, the flatliner wings fucked my insides up. Yeah I got my name on the wall for eating 5 of them, but after drinking an entire bottle of Maalox, my asshole basically exploded. I woke up the next day on the can with a burning asshole.
For your adventure, you should be awarded the anal equivilent to the Purple Heart, known as the Brownish Purple Heart, awarded to all of us wounded in the line of doodee.
Myself, Gordorsky, Blooming Onion, and Mr. Brown Underpants have a wall of them.