Shit Happens (Sorry Mom)

I was driving down I-85 Saturday morning at 65 mph gabbing with my sister about Italian sausage and motorcycle underwear when I realized I'd just bypassed my exit (DAMN!!!).  I was on my way to my laser chin hair removal appointment and now I was going to be late.  And that's when it happened.  With no warning whatsoever.......I shit my pants.

I assure you, while it seems like I might make some of this stuff up to make the blog more interesting (or to make my life look more ridiculous - if that's at all possible), this epic nightmare did indeed happen to me at 8:45am Saturday morning on my way to get my chin hairs zapped.  I was already feeling a bit wonky from the day before.  I'm not sure what got ahold of me - I blame it on the gas station cheese I purchased after my hair appointment on Thursday night, but who really knows what goes on in our insides.  We could guess all day and never figure it out - sometimes I think our insides just want to let us know who the boss is.  Anyway, I left Jill's charity event on Friday evening earlier than planned because my stomach was hurting and I was feeling nauseated, but I took a long bath when I got home and I actually felt pretty good when I woke up Saturday morning.  When I realized that I had just crapped my pants I was faced with a dilemma. Do I go home, or continue on to my appointment.  I know many of you don't find this to be a dilemma, but just before the "incident," I had already called ahead to say I was on my way but that I was going to be a few minutes late.  Plus, I had cancelled the last two appointments.  Certainly after missing my exit and crapping my pants - all the forces of the universe were pointing towards - TURN AROUND AND GO THE FECK HOME AMY, YOU JUST SHIT YOURSELF!!!  However, as tears began to stream down my face - something came over me.  I was  hell bent on making it to this appointment.  The forces were trying to stop me, but I was having none of that!!  NONE OF THAT - I tell you!!!  After that, my survival skills took over.  I reached behind my seat, grabbed a wad of napkins and shoved them down the back of my pants . . . . . . and continued on to my appointment.  No fecal fiasco was going to keep me from completing my mission.  I have put up with a lot of shit from other people over the past few years, I could certainly figure out how to deal with a bit of my own without panicking and turning tail.

Once I arrived, I rushed past the receptionist- saying over my shoulder "I'm here, but I really need to use the facilities" and I disappeared into the bathroom.  I did a quick, but thorough "clean up" and then returned to the reception area with my sweatshirt pulled down as far as I could get it.  The receptionist informed me that since I was now 15 minutes late she was going to have to get the main Doctor/owner dude, who was currently finishing up some paperwork, to treat me and if I would please just have a seat.  *Gulp*  My "clean up" job was pretty good, but I was now sporting a wet spot on my pants so I had to sit sort of sideways on my hip as not to leave any "evidence" behind. 

The doctor called me in and I jumped up on the examination table (white leather - of course - this place is kind of high falutin).  I have been treated by the main Doctor dude in the past, and while the zapping does not take longer than like 2 or 3 minutes, he is a bit of a chatter box.  This time after he zapped me he proceeds to say.  "You know, I just treated a woman who really really impressed me.  She was just so amazing that I had to google her after she left.  I found out that she won a Pulitzer Prize.  Isn't that amazing.  You just never know who you might meet."  I just looked up at him silently as he beamed with pride at having met such an amazing patient, all the while fighting myself internally from saying, "I just shit my pants.  That's pretty amazing."  But I didn't say it out loud.  I just jumped down from the examination table, gave a quick glance behind me at the white leather table (just to make sure) and went home.

[SIDEBAR - Sorry Mom - You begged me not to blog about this "incident," but I just couldn't NOT.]

[DOUBLE SIDEBAR - The talk of Italian sausages and motorcycle underwear was because I drew my brother-in-law for X-Mas gifts this year.  In case you were wondering.]