Sometimes, even I am taken aback by the jokes that life plays on me. You would think, given all of my years on the planet, that I would know better.
You would think...
So two weeks ago, I left work early for a doctor appointment. I was feeling really nervous that Monday. I had seen this doctor before and knew the appointment would be fine, but I was anxious nonetheless. I left work early enough to run a quick errand before heading to my doctor's office, and on the way there, my chest started to hurt. My heart was beating faster and faster, and it was hard for me to catch a breath. Since I didn't want to crash my vehicle on account of what methinks was a mini panic attack, I tried to control my breathing. Then I started pushing on my chestal area, in an attempt to quell the thumpings of my heart.
I am not really sure what I thought the pushing would do and I am certain that to the passersby I appeared to be groping myself.
With adrenaline in my heart, I made it to the doctor's office with enough time to use the restroom. Let me say at this point, that I have used this restroom before. I have even used the exact toilet in that exact stall before. But this day, panic attack day, all things were new.
I...uh...sat, took care of things and then, before standing and redressing, I flushed. I don't usually flush prior to reassembly, but for some reason that day, I did. And then it happened.
Water.
Floods of water. Spraying everywhere. I jumped up and tried to get my clothes on quickly and continued to be rained on by the angry, angry toilet water.Water that sprung inexplicably from the pipe at the back of the toilet and all over me, the walls, the ceiling, and the floor.
You know how on the TV, a pipe will break and the character in the show will sit there and let the water keep flowing at them and you are thinking, "why are they just standing there?" They are frozen in place and blocking the torrent of water with spirit fingers instead of getting out of the way.
I will never wonder that again.
I could not move from the downpour. I HAD FORGOTTEN HOW TO MOVE. I was without the ability to unlock the stall door. I just kept standing there, stunned, and getting more and more wet.
Finally, something clicked and I made it out of the stall without slipping on the puddle of water on the floor. I went to the sink to ironically wash my hands. There was water in my hair and on my face. My shirt was soaked. (Had I not been wearing black,I would have been escorted out of the building for being a girl gone wild, lost in Wisconsin and seeking medical assistance.) I was still in shock and wasn't sure if I was covered with poo water or just water from the pipes, so I was trying to smell myself. (It wasn't poo water.) I grabbed paper towels and tried to dry myself off. Then, I returned to the stall.
I do not know why. I was curious, I guess? I am deranged?
I saw the water beading on the ceiling and dripping down to the puddle on the floor. I saw that the toilet had flushed but nothing appeared broken. I almost flushed it a second time just to see what would happen, when it occurred to me that what would happen is the toilet erupting all over me, again.
I washed my hands one more time and left the bathroom. I checked-in with the receptionist for my appointment. I must have appeared normal because she didn't make any comments, like, "Wow, you smell of poo." Or, "yikes! Is it raining outside?" So I told her in brief, that the toilet exploded water all over me and that they might want to let a janitor know. The other receptionist heard the story and whipped around at me. It was a flabbergasting story, I knew. I was so flabbergasted, that when I finally sat down with my doctor, the first thing I said was, "so, would you like to hear what just happened to me?" He did, and we both laughed.
Interestingly, the crazy toilet times squashed my anxiety. For some people, yoga, or talk therapy, or medication might help them calm down, but for me, being unexpectedly drenched in water from a public commode distracted me enough to bring inner peace.
Yikes.
me
