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Rectal Examination
A couple of years ago I had a slight stomach ache but figured I was just hungry. To ease my stomach I decided to have a takeaway Indian (nothing spicy though). Unfortunately throughout the night I felt progressively worse.

The next morning the first thing I did was release liquid from both ends, not a very endearing thing for my housemates to hear at 7am. However, the worst was still to come!

Throughout the rest of the day liquid poo continued to pour out of my bum. By the evening I was dehydrated so after consultation with NHS Direct I took myself off to casualty. Thankfully I made the taxi journey without discharging any further atomic waste.

Once in casualty they decided that I either had food poisoning or appendicitis. Either way, I needed to be re-hydrated so they admitted me to a surgical assessment ward. By this time it was about 1am and all I wanted to do was die quietly in a corner.

The consultant who admitted me was an old man who had with him a junior doctor. They decided I needed a rectal examination. I promptly laid on my side expecting the worst with a sheepish look on my face. The nurse feeling my embarrassment was kind enough to say “well your day just keeps on getting better and better”.

The consultant asked what the junior doctor should be feeling/looking out for, on went the glove with some Vaseline (how grateful I was). The fingers went up my arse, the junior doctor had a poke around. While junior doc was having a poke I felt my stomach start to grumble – I was either going to fart or poo, possibly both. At that moment the junior doc decided there was nothing untoward but as he released his fingers my bowels exploded.

I had managed to spray bright yellow liquid poo all over the doctor, he wasn’t wearing scrubs but instead quite an expensive looking suit. The consultant looked unimpressed, the doctor looked like he was about the cry and the nurse just had a tiny grin etched on her face. I couldn’t even begin to start apologising because at that point I started to retch.

The next day I heard the story retold by many nurses as they changed shifts. By the time I was discharged (minus an appendix) I swear the nurses waved goodbye and quietly thanked me for spraying the doctor rather than them.
(Tue 17th Jul 2007, 22:09, More)