(Or the “I’m John Lithgow and there’s a creepy Gremlin-thingy living in my toilet” Speculation)
You ever been stabbed before? Don’t answer that. I’ve never been. About the closest I have come I guess is when I had a fissure. At the time I didn’t know that was the technical term for the pain I was experiencing. Like everything else I had no idea what a fissure was. But of course, I somehow ended up with one. It felt like someone was stabbing me EVERY TIME I went to the bathroom. And that someone was that freaky Gremlin thingy from the Twilight Zone movie. And just like John Lithgow‘s character, I was growing more and more paranoid every time I sat down on the toilet. Because that was when the pain would come. At no other time did the pain surface except for when on the toilet. It would lift me straight up and sometimes right off the lid. I would break out in an instantaneous cold sweat. I started muttering to myself and looking into the bowl trying to catch a glimpse of that gnarly little …… son of a bitch. I knew the slimy thing was hiding out in there stabbing me whenever I sat down. Leaping about inside the toilet bowl with ease, jabbing me whenever he felt like it. This was the only logical explanation. I mean, there was blood. Something twisted was going on. Naturally I called my GI. He recommended I go to this magical place called the ER to find out what was wrong with me. It’s a wonderful place, the ER, where you get to meet over-tired, grumpy doctors who like to misdiagnose you. So, it was either go all John Lithgow on my toilet with a handgun trying to kill a knife wielding Gremlin that didn’t exist (or did it?) or go to the ER like my doctor suggested. Naturally I chose the ER. Big mistake. I would have been better off straddling a nuke and riding that all the way into the obstructed bowels of the Twilight Zone. Hell, that would have been a walk in the park. As I turned off the bathroom light to go and tell my wife we were headed to the ER, there was Mr. Gremlin peeking his raisin like head out of the toilet bowl. His freakishly long finger rose into sight and he waved it in No-No fashion at me just as he had done to John Lithgow’s character in the movie. Yup, things had gone from bad to worse.
NOTE: If you find yourself struggling with a fissure check out this resource – http://www.myjourneywithcrohns.com/