Rule Number Five

I have no idea what the poor janitor must have thought when he got that fateful call to the women’s bathroom. I wonder if he became so concerned that he called the nurse.

I can only imagine the look on the nurse’s face when she placed her hand on the janitor’s shoulder and they both peered into the bathroom stall. “There’s nothing we can do, there’s no way to find her, she’s in God’s hands now.”

I was 15 years old when I started to finally feel not only accepted by my peers but actually semi-popular.

If you have ever been bullied all through grade school only to be saved by the good graces of puberty in high school, then I know you’ll understand.

To maintain my hard-earned popularity I created a set of rules that I followed to make sure that my social rating would never go down.

The rules were pretty simple:

1. Always look good

2. Always smell good

3. Always wear sunglasses outside (to help build mystique)

4. Never show any weakness of any kind

5. NEVER poop at school

Shallow and stupid right? Well, welcome to high school baby, it’s a rough ride.

All of these rules were incredibly important to me, but none were as important as number 5…

NEVER POOP AT SCHOOL

The thought of letting people know that my body functioned regularly was horrifying to me. If I had to poop, I’d hold it until I got home. If it was an emergency, I’d leave school early after faking sick.

The shame that would fall upon the poor girl who dared to poop in the public bathroom was palpable.

First, there would be the smell that would assault all the girls fixing their makeup at the mirror, then there would be the double flush, and then the walk of shame…

A poor girl would emerge from the stall, head hung low as she rushed to wash her hands, trying to avoid the glares that attacked her...

Anyway, fast forward a few weeks into 10th grade and I was feeling pretty good about myself. I was obsessed with my appearance and was talking to a friend about ways to make us prettier.

“ I heard that if you take prenatals vitamins they can help your hair and nails grow longer.”

“No way,” I said. “That sounds ridiculous.”

My friend just shrugged as she opened the door to the lunchroom. “Well, it has worked for me.”

That conversation was all it took for me to start taking prenatal vitamins. I thought, “Hey, can’t hurt to try it out.” Of course, now I know that yes, yes it can hurt…

I had been taking the prenatal vitamins religiously for over a month. I didn’t notice anything different in my health or appearance but I kept taking them anyway.

One day I noticed that my stomach hurt and that I seemed a little bloated. I realized that I hadn’t gone to the bathroom yet that day. “Oh well, it’s probably nothing,” I thought.

Then 2 days passed without going to the bathroom….then 4, then 6.

I was starting to feel desperate. I couldn’t figure out why I was so constipated and there was no way in hell I was going to ask my parents or anyone else for help.

So I did what any teenager would do and I Googled my symptoms. Severe constipation was the first thing to come up followed by pictures of people smiling as they held massive stool samples from their own bodies balanced on a stick held at arm's length.

No, I’m not kidding, look it up...Or don’t, it will cause nausea or nightmares.

I also watched a clip from one of those "daytime doctor" shows where a lady sat crying on a stage as x-rays of her impacted colon played on the screen behind her.

“Oh my goodness, I’m going to die,” I thought.

While on the internet, I also search for reasons why I would be so constipated. Eventually, I found my answer. Fun fact, one of the side effects of taking prenatal vitamins is constipation and in my case, SEVERE constipation.

So by week 2 of constipation, I started a cleanse. I had tossed the offending vitamins in the trash and had started on a strict diet of water and laxatives.

At this point, my clothes no longer fit and my stomach was starting to look distended. I only wore baggy band T-shirts or the very popular at the time, baby doll tops to school. That way no one would think I was bloated or worse, gaining weight.

By the end of the second week, I was starting to panic.

I had been on water and laxatives for FOUR days and nothing had happened.

I was sitting in class and contemplating how I was going to explain to my parents that I needed to go to the doctor because I was dying of constipation when it started happening... My stomach hurt in such a way that it felt like I had rocks scraping against my insides.

I got up from my desk and bolted to the restroom. I remembered rule number 5 but this was no time to get picky, my life was on the line.

I ran into the restroom and no one was there. Perfect.

I then went through a very agonizing 10 minutes that resulted in breaking 2 more rules in the process, 1. Always look good and 2. Always smell good. I was not following either of those rules at that moment.

After the whole ordeal was over, I felt at least 8 lbs lighter. I then looked down and was horrified.

Without making things any more graphic than they already are, I will just say… It was massive.

I was worried that I was going to break the toilet but I reached to flush anyway. There could be no evidence that this had ever happened to me.

I pulled the handle and waited for the flush. Nothing.

This couldn’t be happening. I flushed again. Nothing. I stood in horror. THE TOILET WAS ALREADY BROKEN.

“NOOOOO!!,” I was screaming in my head. This wasn’t real life. Of all the toilets in all of the stalls, I had the only broken one?!

There was nothing I could do.

I rolled up some toilet paper and set it on top of the mound. I said a prayer... And then I ran.

To this day, nobody knows it was me that destroyed the bathroom but I would like to formally and profusely apologize to the custodial staff... You guys didn’t deserve that.