Ending the day on the toilet


I recently left one job for another. I could no longer stick my old job. It had become stressful. Not just because of the work load but because of the atmosphere. It wasn’t a particularly happy place to work. I don’t think in the year and a half of working there I woke up wanting to go to work. I guess I never really want to go to work as I have far too many other interesting things I’d rather be doing! It would be nice for it to be occasionally bearable.

I felt work was having an effect on my health. I was more tired than usual and had begun to feel more “Crohnsie”. I was in a lucky position with an old employer offering me a previous job back. So I didn’t have to go through all of the stress and hassle of searching for a new job and enduring interviews.

One thing this old place taught me was that fresh cream causes me serious problems in the bowel area. Each time I eat a cream bun, I find myself spending the afternoon regretting my decision and vowing never to eat another damned cream bun again. This became a problem when it was people’s birthdays. They would bring in cream buns. Don’t get me wrong, I love people bringing in yummy food to share. I am far too polite to try and keep pointing out that I’d rather not have a creamed cake. Nobody ever asked if everyone was happy with cream cakes (It doesn’t help that I love cream cakes!) This led to a lot of afternoons running from my desk to the loo. It was never worth the pain and torture but I never learn and I soon forget the torment these buns cause.

On your last day, as well as Birthdays, you were expected to bring cakes in. A kind of celebration of leaving (escaping) I suppose. For a change I had pre planned this food event. I had decided not to abuse myself with creamed buns (ooh err!) and decided on a selection of party food instead; savoury and sweet. So in the weekly food shop I bought a selection of party foods and some Crohnie safe sponge cakes. I thought this would be a much safer option and as it turned out, a much cheaper option.

Now, I don’t know if the stress of leaving or the emotion of leaving (Sounds sad but I always feel a little emotional when leaving a place of work as I’m pretty unlikely to see these people again) or something I ate or maybe a combination of all these factors and more but that last afternoon in the office was spent mostly on the toilet.

This was not how I wanted to be remembered. I did not want to be the guy that spent most of his working day in the toilet. I had intended to finish off the project I was working on and then wander around the office and factory saying my goodbyes to people. I thought the last hour would be relaxed. I thought I would be shaking people’s hands and saying empty promises of “going for a drink sometime”.  Not a cat’s chance. Mr Crohn’s stepped in to show me who was boss.

So each time a colleague came to my desk to say goodbye and have a quick chat I would not be able to listen to a lovely word they had to say. All I could think about was getting to the loo without having an accident. I tried to be polite and not cut people off from what they were saying and I didn’t want to risk being that man who pooped himself at his desk. I had to run from my desk so many times, shouting my apologies backward to the poor person left standing at my desk, mid sentence.

I don’t think I got to say good bye to half the workforce due to being trapped on the toilet. It made me feel pretty guilty. I thought it would look like I was hiding from them; like I didn’t want to go through the hassle of talking to them. This was not the case. I would rather have been stuck in conversation with anyone of them rather than being stuck, teary eyed and sore on the toilet. Not a great way to end a part of your working life.

The end of the day came and went and in true Crohnie style. My last shift ended sitting on the toilet. I was lucky to have a new Angry Birds on my phone. I completed so many levels that day!

Written by Ben ..read more from him at his blog http://www.meandmycrohns.co.uk/mercaptopurine-diary/ending-the-day-on-the-toilet/


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