Monday, September 17, 2007
Which type are you?
I’ve got a hunch that there are two types of people in this world: those who inspect their own poo and those who don’t. There’s no two ways about it, regardless of gender, you’re either one or the other. You’re either a looker, that is to say someone who has a good long shuftie at their doings or you’re a flusher, someone who displays a far more carefree attitude towards their ablutions and pays not a blind bit of notice to what lies below. Needless to say I’m a looker, but there was a time when I was a flusher. A born and bred flusher, I was. Never felt the need to peek between my legs. Just didn’t have the inclination to view my poo. It wasn’t in my nature. I was never even curious. Didn’t give a shit to be perfectly frank. ‘Flush it and forget it’ would have served as a suitable motto had I ever felt in need of a catchy toilet based adage. Oh yes, I was a happy flusher until ulcerative colitis came along and my transformation into a looker began. On my very first morning as a looker I saw blood in the toilet. A lot of blood. Which is quite a grisly sight for any looker let alone an apprentice one. But here’s the thing, once you start looking there’s no looking back, only down. What started as an idle glance south has become something akin to a scientific study. Now when I peer into the bowl I’m checking for the three C’s: colour, consistency and content. From peachy blush to rustic terracotta, I’ve produced enough shades of reds and browns to keep Dulux inspired for a lifetime. At the moment though my iron tablets mean that everything comes out the colour of a polar bear’s nose. Consistency is consistently loose, what I would term runny. Good firm stools are hard to come by and the sight of a floater is a rare and eagerly anticipated event; a bit like Haley’s Comet. Content is where we get into the nitty-gritty. This requires a keen eye and a willingness to get down and dirty. Much like gold prospecting, patience and perseverance will be rewarded, often with the glimpse of a glistening tomato seed. All good stuff. Keeping an eye on the three C’s is essential if you’ve got UC. The three C’s give you an insight to the well being of your insides. So I’m happy to place myself in the looker rather than flusher camp. There is though perhaps a third category, a rarely spoken of, more secretive sect. Little is known of them, and outwardly little distinguishes them from you or I. You may be sat next to one right now and you wouldn’t know it. But they know who they are, and they and only they know what they do behind closed bathroom doors; they’re the sniffers. And the less said about them the better.