Oh, Crap!

Being a one of a kind patient has it’s moments. Sometimes they’re hilarious, sometimes they’re terrifying or amazing, and sometimes they’re just… icky. Today I was offered the most magical opportunity by one of my doctors when he told me that if I wanted I could “eat shit”… literally.

I’m not being crass or trying to be funny. I’m am being completely serious and honest about the adventure it is to be such an epic kintsukuroi patient.

My doctor told me I could “eat shit” and it could do wondrous things for me.

It seems that one of the long term side effects of the antibiotics I’ve been on to save my leg is the complete and utter destruction of the healthy gut flora required to be able to digest food. When your gut bacteria is not healthy, it’s like having a mild stomach flu or food poisoning for a little while. When healthy gut bacteria is nonexistent, digestion is also nonexistent.

After almost 8 weeks on daily infusions as well as oral antibiotics, I have nothing healthy in my digestive system anymore. When I asked how long it could take to build that healthy gut bacteria up again he told me that I could expect it to take a year or perhaps even a year and a half before I was back to normal. Anyone want to have that flu-like feeling for a year and a half?! You party poopers just gonna leave me hangin’?

So I asked my wanna-be crack dealer *cough* what I could do other than prebiotics and probiotics and that’s when Dr. Infectious Disease offered to arrange a fecal transplant or, if I didn’t want to have surgery, some miraculous little pills filled with the waste of those whose gut is healthy.

Imagine sitting across from a person who has spent many years in far more schooling than even I am interested in to have them offer the opportunity to eat someone else’s excrement knowing how many times your friends have told you about the moment they walked into the nursery just in time to prevent similar consumption from happening.

What degree or training do you need to hold a job where you collect other people’s fresh, erm, deposits, test them, filter them, and then scoop little tiny spoonfuls into caplets so that some poor schmo like me can be offered the thrilling opportunity to knowingly swallow poo? I’m curious. What qualifications do you need? Where does the interest in being a dung-dealer begin? How do you even seek out and apply for that job?

When I was, understandably, not enthusiastic, Dr. Disease told me that everything we eat has trace amounts of fecal matter in or on it. (Like thinking about the poo on my lettuce is going to make things better.) He kept saying that if I could just accept that I’m already eating poo than I should be able to accept swallowing some that’s closed up in a handy caplet.

I pointed out that there is a huge difference between little microscopic particles and knowingly, purposefully swallowing bits that are big enough to measure. Undeterred he told me all about how positive these treatments can be. I finally told him I don’t even like to share a toothbrush with my husband so I can’t imagine ever feeling like THAT is even remotely a possibility.

I feel like I’ve eaten enough proverbial shit these last few years that I don’t want to make the cherry on top be, well, you know.

At least it provided me a good laugh… after I left.

*There will be a prize for the person who can find the most poop related humor in this entry.*