Friday, May 29, 2009

Blow up

A bulge has appeared under my t-shirt on the left hand side. This means my colostomy bag has inflated. It gives me the appearance of having half a beer belly. When your bag blows up like this it feels like it could burst like a balloon at any moment, so it’s wise to let some air out as soon as possible. I make my way to some nearby public toilets. I’m in luck, one of the two cubicles is free. I duck inside and turn to lock the door. The lock is bust. Not a problem, I’ll just lean against the door to keep it shut, open my bag and let the air out. Normally a straightforward procedure, but on this occasion the gas is trapped behind the stool, forcing the poo out. Defying gravity the stool quickly rises up, filling the opening of the bag and preventing me from rolling it back up and sealing it. Great, now I have a shit Vesuvius on my hands. A generous tablespoon of crap lands with a splat on the tiles. I take this as my cue to leap towards the toilet before I cover the rest of the floor in excrement. The remaining contents of my bag drop down into the toilet bowl from a distance of about 3 feet making quite some splash. This is not going according to plan. Without my weight against it the door swings open. I kick out a leg behind me slamming it shut. The now flaccid bag brushes against my jeans leaving a dark smear of shit. I have one hand on the cistern in front of me, and a foot against the door behind me. I’m in a similar position to a ballet dancer warming up at the bar. With my free hand I grab a handful of toilet paper. I mop up the mess on my crotch before tackling the opening to the bag. There’s warm poo all over my fingers, which makes me involuntarily shudder. Five minutes ago I was enjoying the sunshine and now I’m balancing in a small cubicle surrounded by own faeces. I hear the bolt slide back on the cubicle next door. I take my chance and like one of those wooden characters you see on Swiss clocks I pirouette out of my cubicle and into the now vacant one in one seamless move. With the door safely locked I flop down on the toilet and catching my breath I take out my sandwich box containing my colostomy kit. Now I can start again. This time properly.