Meg Speak

Monday was a wacky ass day. I got up early to do dishes, finish packing, shower and go to brunch with Matt before I had to catch a flight. We arrived around 12:20 for my 1:50 flight (small airport) and I was asked by five different people if I was sure I wanted to go through security so early because I wouldn’t be permitted to use the bathroom in that area. I assured them I would be fine as one woman shooed a bird out of the area. I went through the screening process mostly without incident and took a seat. I pulled out my laptop and started watching Man With Two Brains. You know, I never seem to notice how much nudity or how inappropriate a movie is until I watch it with other people or in public. I felt like I kept skipping ahead so as to not show the naked breast or what have you. It doesn’t really matter though, I have the movie memorized.

After a while we boarded a plane where I sat in seat 10A which was near two toddlers. You ever notice how really hot parents create really ugly babies? What is with that? Anyway, they were pretty well behaved, so that was awesome. So we’re sitting on the plane and after 10 minutes or so  the Captain comes on and says that there was a security breach at the airport and everyone needed to get off the plane and go through security again. Oh Jeeze. So we all got off the plane and stood behind the passengers from the other plane and waited to go through screening again. An hour later we were all back in our seats, once again waiting for take off. I have no idea what happened, but someone speculated that perhaps someone from another flight who had a connecting one assumed they didn’t need to go through security again, so they walked onto the tarmac. It’s a small airport, you know, the kind where you go outside and walk to your plane. I love it.

Once on the plane I decided I needed a little bit of wine to get me through the flight. When I went to hand my ID to the flight attendant she replied (pretty surley) “I don’t need to see your ID”, tossed me a travel sized bottle of wine and went on her way. This seemed a little odd to me as recently I tried to buy alcohol and the person thought I was in high school. A month ago I was carded for cigarettes because they thought I looked 16. What happened in the last month that aged me so drastically? Oh, right, finals. (Speaking of, by the grace of God and the pity of the professor, I passed all of my classes. Seriously, this was a Christmas miracle as I stupidly took 2 biomed sciences, 1 Admin of justice and 2 choirs. What the hell was I thinking?)Anyway, I drank my wine and thought nothing of it… until later that day.

My mom came and picked me up and we went to the Cheesecake Factory for Linner (it was 4 pm and my last meal was at 10… I’m not sure if it was lunch or dinner, but I didn’t eat again, so I assume Linner.) which was exciting as I’ve only been once when I was little. I ordered a yummy sounding wasabi encrusted ahi and a daiquiri and guess what? I wasn’t carded. WTF? My mom said it was because I was with her, but I am guessing I was just wearing 6 months of stress from school and health issues on my face. After all, I’m 22… I should get carded for several more years (I hope). Ten minutes go by and we are without bread or our drinks when the waiter returns to tells us they have no ahi. Lame. I went with the salmon, it wasn’t good. We ask for bread, we are hungry. Another 10 minutes and another server shows up and tells us she is taking over. We again asked for bread and our drinks. Another 10 minutes goes by and we get the bread and my daiquiri, which the waitress tried giving to my mother and then was surprised that I ordered it. OK, so at least one person thought I was too young. Anyway, my mom asks for her drink stating it had been 30 minutes and as far as she knew, it does not take 30 minutes to pour a glass of wine. We finally received it and then got our meals. As I said before, mine wasn’t very good. It was too sweet and had too many bones, and I really fucking hate bones in my fish. It creeps me out, and usually when I find bones it takes three years before I’ll eat fish again. It just gives me the willies.

Afterwards we were too drunk to drive home, so we went shopping. After a while I had a horrible stomach ache, so I did something I’ve only done twice in 22 years; I pooped in a public restroom. Correction: I had amazingly gross explosive diarrhea in a public bathroom. It was actually horribly embarrassing because it was terribly smelly and a group of women walked in and one proclaimed loudly “Wow! It really smells in here!” which kind of hurt my feelings, but at the same time made me giggle. I pretended I was trapped in my stall not because of the putrid poop escaping my ass, but because I couldn’t find a tampon. It went over well, especially as all the women I had come in with (who must have been aware that someone was making music in my stall) had already left and this was the second wave of potty patrons. I was quite proud of myself for pulling it off.

While in the bathroom I began contemplating what I possibly could have done to provoke this year long fight with my intestines, and I’ve decided someone must have put a curse on me. I mean really, 21 years went by and I was fine and then suddenly I have horrible stomach pains and diarrhea daily. What the hell is that about? So, seeing as how my doctor has no clue, I’ve decided it is a hex. Is there a good diet for hexes? You know, one that minimizes it’s hexi-ness. It’s kind of fitting really, even though I am a much nicer person than I used to be, I once thought I was hot shit and now I’m just excreting it. Good times.

In other news, my room seems to be far less haunted than it once was (check the January/February archives for an explanation) but I’m still not really sleeping. Last night I slept probably 4 hours, and yet it’s 3 a.m. and I am wide awake. I always find it hard to sleep here the first week or so. After that I’m so exhausted (or drunk) that I fall asleep immediately. I think tomorrow I may actually leave the house. I felt pretty shitty today, but I always feel feverish the day after I fly. No clue as to why that is, but whatever. Also, I’m downloading Paradise Hotel 2, Season 1, which I have been assured is the smuttiest and most deliciously distasteful of all tv.  This should ease any home (or boyfriend) sickness I may feel the next three weeks I am away from home.  Hooray for smut tv!!

Sometimes I feel completely crazy. I mean, utterly insane. It’s like every company is out to get me. You already know my problems with Bank of America, but it always seems that I have some kind of issue with every company I encounter. Take my most recent purchase for example. I ordered from Ulta (a cosmetics store) like $60 in merchandise and then paid for expedited shipping. I only did that because I am going out of town for several weeks and wanted the items.  So I get the tracking number and it says the items will be here in 7 days. Wait a minute, I paid for next day, so what is going on? I emailed the company and got no response, and then called them and was told that because my order had alcohol in it (I suppose in the hair product (which is not aerosol) that was to keep my hair from getting damaged when I straighten it) that order had to be shipped ground. I asked them if they ever planned to tell me this and from what I gather, that answer is ‘no’. So, I talked to the lady some more and she told me I have two options. 1) Wait for it arrive to my apartment, where I will not be, and enjoy my items several weeks from now or 2) Refuse shipment, have the post office send it back when it arrives and then they will refund me my items. My options are pretty much sit and wait, or don’t get it at all. Seeing as how I wrangled up crazy good deals (12 items, saved about $30 in all) there’s no fucking way I’d just return it. Especially because I hunted for the specific items I wanted for an hour, had their sever delete my shopping cart unexpectedly, and then had to find all the items again. No thanks. I guess my only option is to wait and bitch and not inform the company that instead of refunding my shipping, they refunded the entire order. Suckers.

Oh, and when I told the lady that they should have a disclaimer about shipping liquids and alcohol, she told me they have one, but apparently it didn’t recognize that I had any in my purchase, so it never prompted me. Whatever.

In other news, I sold my text books back yesterday and got a whopping $5 for my Anatomy book. Wow. Perhaps I’ll buy a pack of gum. Also, while standing in line, I saw a guy trying to address an envelope but had no idea where to put the stamp. He had never addressed an envelope before. That seems ridiculous to me. Ya, I mostly email, but I send out Christmas cards and Birthday cards, packages and what not… and I get mail. How could you not know? This made me really sad for my generation.

You know what else I fucking hate? Teachers who are assholes. I had one who would put 0 instruction on his instructions (Write a paper and present a murder in the last 50 years) and then dock you points for random shit. For instance, he docked 10% for not including a works consulted page. Did he require one? Apparently, but he just never told us. What the fuck? I got 100% on every assignment but that one and one other and he gave me a B. Why does this piss me off? This was my easy class that I was hoping would offset the poor grades I will get in my two sciences. Also, there’s no fucking reason I shouldn’t have gotten an A. Every test was completely objective. The question would be something like, “What do you think happened in the situation? What kind of killer was present?” and then he would dock you half a grade because even though you supported your opinion well, you did not answer exactly how he wanted you to. Oh, you didn’t mention one little detail, so I will give you half credit. Asshat. Bah! Sorry, I’m just mad. If I couldn’t get an A in my easy A class, then how the fuck do I plan on passing my other ones?

12:00 I take 2 pills that are supposed to get my body ready for pooping. After the first movement I am to drink 64 ounces of mystery liquid, or if no movement occurs, I am to begin drinking it at 6.

2:30 I take a sip of mystery liquid. It is kind of thick and salty. Like sperm, but without the satisfaction of doing a job well done. Within 20 minutes I am perched over my toilet preparing to vomit. This is going to be interesting…

5:57 I have put off drinking this shit. Is it not bad enough that I have been permitted to consume is laxatives and water? Must I drink this? Wish me luck… 1^st 8 oz glass, here I come.

6:00 After several false starts (you know, trying to drink it, but putting it down last moment) I decided I needed a new plan of action. I decided to try it like an irish carbomb. I like those. So I filled my glass with 8oz of gross shit and filled a shot glass with Gatorade. I did my shot and then chugged more Gatorade… ok. I can do this.

6:15 Next one had to be a little later than planned… My butt was too busy peeing to allow for me to take my ‘medicine’. Man, someone needs to make this taste better.

6:35 Ok, so this one took longer. I drank half and then had to stop. It took several minutes before I could drink the other half. I pounded it and immediately started heaving into the sink. Nothing came up, surprisingly, but it created horrible sharp pains in my stomach. This sucks.

6:45 Matt asks me if it is time for another one. I tell him I hate him and then threaten him with an enema. This stuff is bringing out the worst in me… or best. Who knows.

7:00 I have two more left. I need to lay down… I don’t think I can drink any more. I’ve already consumed (per doctor’s orders) 70 something ounces of water today. Now I am chugging another 64. I have no idea where these are going to go as I am not peeing, but my poo does kinda look like pee, so maybe that’s where they are going. It’s taking everything I have to not vomit at this moment… If after I get scoped they tell me they can’t find anything wrong I think I will cunt punt someone. I better fucking have cancer after going through all this bullshit.

7:26 It looks like I am pregnant. My stomach is extremely hard and bulgy. I should take pictures and scare my parents. Bwahahaha.

7:39 I pooed a liquid the color of a yellow highlighter. I asked matt if he wanted to see and he came to inspect. He was shocked that he was staring at poop and not urine and it was just yellow liquid. What the hell am I drinking? One more to go.

8:00 Done! 1-2 hours of watery poop ahead.

11 Screw this, I am going to bed.

I awoke with the worst sore throat and no desire to eat anything. I felt thoroughly beaten up and could not wait to get this rolling. I hopped into the shower (the doctor deserves a clean butt) and had Matt drive me over and drop me off. In the waiting room I sat alone listening to two older people talking about various older people stuff. When the nurse began talking to me about my insurance, they both looked at me wearily and grew silent. I guess they thought I was picking up my grandparent or something. After that, neither spoke until I was taken back.

The nurse called me in and had me undress and put on a lovely backless robe that I tried to tie in various ways to hide my body. It wasn’t working, so I plunked down onto the gurney and laid back. The nurse came in and put slipper socks on me (I love those) and covered me with a warm blanket. We made chitchat for a while and basically just continued the conversation we had the last time I was in. She put the IV in the vain I directed her to (I’ve decided to stop being so afraid of needles. Needle induced panic attacks are not becoming, nor practical, so I’ve decided to get over it) and she stuck me and then switched it to some kind of catheter in order to give me meds. Honestly, she explained it, but I was too busy not looking to remember. After that they wheeled me into a dimly lit room (mood lighting) in front of a tv. As always, I joked and laughed with the nurse in order to fill the scary space with laughter. It always helped.

The doctor came in and he and I joked about various things (he owed me a drink) and then he had me roll onto one side to expose my ass to the world. This was easier said than done as I was hooked up to several wires and didn’t want to disconnect anything. He then gave me an injection of whatever delicious stuff he injected me with and I could feel the veins in my lungs heat up immediately. They had to keep reminding me to breath and then suddenly I was floating. Wonderful.

Then came the fun part. The doc lubes up his gloved finger and the lubed up my arss. Fantastic. The scope didn’t really hurt, but every time he progressed forward he would give a burst of air in order to expand the area. I felt like a Macy’s Day Parade balloon. I don’t recall much after that other than falling over while dressing (always graceful) and being taken home where I slept for a long while and refused to eat for several more hours… oh, and farted constantly. Nice, eh? Apparently no one has any clue as to what is wrong with me. The doc says IBS, which is what they tell you when they can’t figure it out. As my dear Kate pointed out, IBS has nothing to do with rectal bleeding, so I should get another opinion. Perhaps, but I’m not in the mood for anymore prodding any time soon. Plus, it’s fucking expensive, so I’ll have to save for my next assventure.

Anyway, seeing as how this is a lame story, I’ll include a few random conversations that Matt and I had. Nothing special, just a glimpse into our weird relationship.

“We should watch A Few Good Men”
“Definitely. Keanu Reeves rocks my vagina”
“Is he evening that?”
“No”
“You mean a young Tom Cruise”
“No, but Sean Connery also rocks my vagina”
“He’s not in that either”
“I meant Jack Nicholson, though Sean does”
“What about Kevin Bacon?”
“Kevin Bacon does not rock my vagina”
“Did you just say ‘Kevin Bacon can’t come on my vagina’?”
“No… well, ya”

“Have you ever seen the Game? It has Michael Douglas in it”
“No, I’ve seen the Firm, it has Tom Cruise”
“I wonder what Gattaca is about”
“Well if it is anything like Gothika…”
“It isn’t”
“But they sound the same, so it’s close”

“I’m bored. Horribly bored. Bored enough to commit the perfect crime.”
“That’s funny you say that because this movie is based off the Perfect Murder”
“The similarities are shocking"
“Megan, please don’t look it up” (the plotline, which is what I always do when I am nervous or bored)
“I don’t want to watch this movie, so if you’re going to make me watch it then I will look it up. Now tell me, why is it dubbed in Spanish?”

So a while back I went through a phase where every movie that I got from Netflix was, well… pornish. I don’t know why, but I suppose I had itches that needed scratching and copious amounts of soft core porn were the only cures. So, Matt and I decided to watch a movie tonight and he kept having me look up movies that he was unfamiliar with. Then he started throwing out the porn ones at me. He finds this funny.
“Hey, can you look up another one? Second word is ‘weapon’.”
“first word is?”
“Naked. Hahahahaha”
“Funny. ‘In this sequel to NAKED KILLER, Anya and Maggie Q star as Charlene and Katt, the two newest recruits of Madame M, an assassin who kidnaps girls off the streets and trains them to become killers. The two quickly become Madame M's top students and, as a reward, are assigned to kill a prominent but CIA protected dignitary.’ Amazing. This one actually has a plot. Wait, Matt, I don’t think this is porn” (It wasn’t)
“Let’s watch one! I’ll put one in”

Movie Starts
“Pleasurecraft? What ever happened to the one with the plot?”
“Who needs it? Sad part is Netflix started recommending these to you”

Some of the conversation during the movie:

“How embarrassing for her”
“That’s what I was thinking”
“I don’t even find this sexy. I just feel bad for that actress”

“he’s suppose to be a robot? I wonder if we’ll see robot sex. I mean, could he electrocute someone? She’s like uh, uh, ah! Tzzzzztch! Dead. Why would they give him a penis? It’s kind of a waste of parts.”

“who agrees to do this?”
“wanna be actresses? Pornstars?”
“wanna be pornstars”

“I bet these guys have sausage penises”
“one of them will be bent severely”
“bent severely?!”
“Ya, let’s guess which one!”
“the one with the hair”
“probably. Banana penis”

“Blind people don’t really watch porn, do they?”
“Brail nipples?”

That’s right friends, we make annoying commentary during porn. Ruins the mood a little, eh? But really, one of the girls kept making this ridiculous face that I guess was supposed to mean ‘I’m really enjoying this’ but came across as ‘I’m a rabid squirrel’. Ridiculous.

I’m off!

I’m going to try to explain to you the hell that is my body. This is very gross, and it may be in more detail than you would like, but I’m tired of suffering alone. You know, a misery loves company type of thing.

So imagine you are out with your friends at a movie, at dinner or wherever and you are having a really good time. Suddenly you get this horrible pain in your stomach. Think about the last time you had really bad diarrhea (that feeling) plus the feeling that you are going to vomit and a little bit of period cramps and that’s the feeling that you suddenly have. Then you start feeling light headed and can actually feel yourself becoming pale. You think that at any moment you are going to have the double whammy: vomiting + explosive diarrhea at the exact same time… like some kind of devil’s dance. You head to the nearest restroom as fast as you can because my friend, you are going to have the worst shit of your life. It’s not a matter of ‘if’ you poop, it’s a matter of when and whether you will make it to the bathroom. Let’s say that you do… let’s visit the horrors that await us there.

Congrats, you didn’t shit yourself! You’re currently birthing a grossest poo of your life and all the while your stomach cramps continue to plague your body. After 10 minutes or so of horrible pain and runny poo you get ready to wipe and flush. And this my friend is the frightening part. You never expect it as it happens rarely, but staring back at you is a toilet full of blood. How much blood? Well, the doctor estimates it is between 1 and 3 cups of blood. That’s right, CUPS. You’re now contemplating whether or not you should take a picture, pass out or just flush away all that blood. Don’t you need that blood? Why yes, you most likely do. Ladies, in your 5-7 days of menstruation each month you lose around 3 tablespoons of blood. That’s in 7 days. With your new mystery illness you are losing 3 cups in less than 10 minutes. Want a scary factoid? I read somewhere that if you lose 4 pints of blood you can die. Want to guess how many cups that is? 8. You are practically half way to death from one poo. It definitely feels that way, anyway. Hey, you know when you give blood? That’s 1 pint (or 2 cups) of blood you just gave away. For that you get a cookie and feeling of self-righteousness. Just a moment ago, you shit that and more and all you feel is queasy and horrified. Welcome to my life.

So Monday I get to start the prep for my colonoscopy. This is going to be a very special week for me. Wednesday at midnight I cease eating, Thursday at noon I get to take some kind of laxative, then at 6pm I have to drink 64 ounces of laxative in 2 hours. I then stay up all night shitting and crying because I’ve done nothing but poo out stomach acid, so my poor bum burns like no other. Friday at 11am I go in to get my ass roto-rootered by my doctor. Here’s a nice diagram for you. Last time I had a Sigmoidoscopy, so the scope ended where the green ends. My colonoscopy ends where the purple does. Looks like fine, right?

I think the worst thing is that they have no idea what is wrong with me. They said that if I was older than it could be cancer or a tumor, but because I’m 22 they are totally stumped. I just want this to be done. I’m completely at my wits end here. I need help.

So that’s pretty much it. Random horrible stomach pains, explosive diarrhea, some vomiting, bloody poop, laxatives and anal probing. This is my life. Oh, and finals, but that are pretty much on the same level as the rest.