My bathroom post du jour:
Charles and I went to Monterey yesterday for a 24 hour visit - Charles bought us a Groupon for a whale watching trip, and it was about to expire. So I used some Marriott points (I always stay at a Marriott on my trips back east) to book us for a night at the Monterey Marriott (and they gave us a suite! it was lovely!), and we ate, drank and did some sightseeing yesterday - and because I ate a lot of protein during the day, I splurged on mushroom and cheese filled raviolis at a fancy Italian restaurant last night.
I woke up way too early (6 AM) in order to make sure I could go poop enough before heading out for the boat - we had to be there at 9:30 AM. Because I work from home, my guts are lazy (as well as my having IBS) and I usually have to go 2-3 times over 2-3 or sometimes 4 hours, I needed to get things MOVING. So, lots of coffee, and then by the time we checked out and got to breakfast, I was not terribly hungry. But I thought I had gone "enough."
The whales are found outside Monterey Bay. The boat ride out got rougher and rougher - but I was OK. Not everyone was - there were barfings going on. I was particularly worried about Charles - he suffers from vertigo, in particular in unstable places. But he did just fine. Then, we found some whales and dolphins, and the captain slowed down or even stopped to let people watch the whales - including mothers with their calves - blowing spouts, and frolicking and doing the classic tails up as they dove. But the boat rocked more and more when it was stopped or barely moving in the swells. And after a while, my stomach started feeling not-so-good - which - you know this is coming, don't you? - got my entire intestinal tract rumbling. I tried to ignore it, and tried to hold off and make it stop, but the more my stomach felt queasy, the more my colon joined in the fun.
Finally, there was no stopping it - and no turning back. Hoping there was nobody else in there, I headed for the head inside the cabin - no windows, and very very small. With a sign that said: "If you're seasick, please go outside." I sat down, the boat rocked and rolled, and I tried to get to the point where I could just get up and get outside in case the other end blew as well. I finally got "finished" and cleaned up and went back outside, but now a threshold was crossed, and I was now fighting actually barfing - while trying to NOT look at or hear others losing their breakfasts. Somehow, I managed to keep the stomach from losing it - but my guts decided I was not, in fact, done yet. And back I went.
I spent the rest of the trip trying to keep my guts under control - I managed to not barf, but I am still trying to get everything to settle down - chicken soup and dairy for the rest of the day.
But it was worth it - it was exhilerating being out on the boat and seeing those magnificent animals.
(n)
