A Funny Thing Happened...

On the way to the bathroom! But before I proceed any further I need to issue a TMI warning. This is not a post for the squeamish. Actually, since I know some of my co-workers read this blog, maybe I shouldn't share this at all. But in an effort to propagate accurate information relative to rectal cancer and the accompanying side effects of its treatment, I feel it my duty to share what I know from first-hand experience. In other words I, Steve Chamberlin, am the main character in this story. None of this "I have a friend" business. Yes, it happened to me—today, errr (looking at the clock) yesterday, at work, on the way to the bathroom.

You might want to refresh your memory on some of the side effects of my treatment before I get into today's mishap. By saying mishap I am using foreshadowing. It's a literary technique. It lets the reader know what's coming beforehand. Like the music in Jaws. Da-dun... Dun-dun Dun-dun Dun-dun Dun-dun Dun-dun - toodle-oooo. You KNOW that shark is coming! Now how did we get out in the middle of the ocean? Anyway, consider reviewing two previous posts: The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly, and Full Disclosure (just click on their name).

In the Full Disclosure post, I talk implicitly about the unmentionable side effects I encountered during chemo and radiation. I did think about editing that post and simply adding item 5 to the list. In fact, my wife mentioned the same idea. She enters into the story a little later as my trusted side kick. As in, "Who ya gonna call?!?!" Yep, more foreshadowing. An important recollection from this same post is my use and connotative definition of the word laugh. Laugh is often another word for "we'd really like to cry right now." It absolutely applies here as well. So let's cut to the chase.

I pooped my pants.

Seriously.

And I know what you're thinking. "But Steve, you're 48 years old!" Trust me. I know my age. I was present for all 48 of my birthday celebrations. Suffice to say my wife had to console me more than once that this wasn't my fault. But I'm getting ahead of myself. [Cue guitar music here.] "Let's start at the very beginning. A very good place to start."

The most annoying side effect from my radiation is partial incontinence. My poor bum got a daily dose of radiation for six weeks after all. The surrounding tissue and nerves got rather fried—making bowel movements not only painful, but hard to predict and control. I went from being able to vacate my storage tank at my convenience to having a thirty second to one minute notice. Translation—when I first get the notion to go, it's time to go. Now. Get out of my way. So far I've had some close calls, but only one miss before today. That's item 3 on the list by the way. Fortunately I was at home for the first one. I was not so lucky for mishap number two! (I just love double entendres.)

It happened all of a sudden. I was busy at my desk when I received the BM notification. Of course this one came with an urgent flag. I rose from my chair on recognition and headed towards my office door. And just like that it manifested itself—all on its own, mid stride, soft and warm. On reaching the door, I just stopped in my tracks and closed it, waiting as the horror wafted over me.

As for what happened next, why I called my wife of course. The words "for better or worse" come to mind about now. God love me, she was home! Carla rallied to bring me a change of clothes with a wash cloth and towel. My office be praised, they have a locker room on site with showers. So thirty eternal minutes later I was able to get cleaned up and back to work. I gave Carla a heartfelt thank you kiss before she drove off into the sunset. OK, it was actually early afternoon so there was no sunset, but aren't heros supposed to ride off into the sunset?

After today I officially relegate rectal cancer a pain in the butt. Butt, it does make for some great stories!

Just to be on the safe side!