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    • Hi I do not really feel the need to go, before this i used to make sure I tried regularly, like when you get potty trying kids to try, just in case. but now the first thing I know is the feeling of it starting to come out - I can hold it a little bit, but unless very close to a toilet, I end up following through - sort of resolved to the fact this is what is happening to me, like when I gradually list control of my pee 
    • Chapter Three               I pulled up to the entrance of the parking garage a short drive later, cussing to myself for leaving my sunglasses on my kitchen counter.  Between the blinding sun and my splitting headache, driving was a real challenge.  Rolling my window down, I reached over to the parking ticket machine and hit the button to print off a ticket stub.  After grabbing the ticket, the automatic gate arm swung up to allow me in.  The first floor was full, but after driving up to the second floor, I was able to find a parking spot near the stairs.  After parking my car, I turned the engine off and grabbed my backpack.  Slipping out of the car, I slung one of my backpack straps over my shoulder and locked up my vehicle. I slowly made my way down the stairs and over to the entrance to the Emergency Room.  At the pace I was going, it probably took me just as long to get to the main entrance as it took me to drive to the hospital.  Walking through the sliding glass doors, I look around to see a large waiting area with rows of metal chairs with hard plastic seats and backrests.  Looking back in front of me, there is a large reception desk with the front high enough for people to use while standing and the back looks to be of a regular height for the staff with a few computers set up.  Making my way over, I see that there is only one person on the other side of the desk.  It is a woman who looks to be in her mid to late thirties, with blond hair tied up in a bun.  She has blue eyes and is wearing light blue scrubs.  By the time I make it over to her, I am so tired that I need to use the front of the counter to help support my weight.  Before I had the chance to speak, she looks up and greets me with, “How may I help you today?” “I have been throwing up since Tuesday night, I have not been able to keep anything down, including water.  I have been having a lot of bowel movements too, despite the fact I have not been eating anything.  I have a bad headache and my joints are aching too.” She responds, “I'm sorry to hear that, can I please get your full name and date of birth.” “My name is William Gauss, and my date of birth is May 12, 1996.” She said, “OK, one moment.” I see her typing away on her computer, and then a few moments later, a sheet comes out of the printer next to her.  Taking the sheet off the printer, she peels a sticker off and sticks it onto a plain white hospital bracelet. Looking back up to me, she asked me to stick out my right arm and then attaches the bracelet around my wrist.  While handing me the sheet of paper that she printed off, she said, “Please keep this with you for staff to use later on.” Looking down, I see that it is made up of rows and columns of stickers with barcodes, my name, and my date of birth.  Looking at my new bracelet, I see that it has the same thing on it.  I ask, “Do you have one of those vomit bags?  I worried about making it to the bathroom in time if I got sick.” She said, “Sure, one second.” I see her get up, walk around the corner, where it looks like the triage area is, and comes back with a green plastic ring and hands it to me.  Looking at the plastic ring, it has a green bag bunched up inside it to where it can extend like a sock.  She then said, “We are not too busy this morning and it shouldn’t be a long wait to be seen.” I thanked her and made my way over to a seat that is near the restroom.  With great relief, I sit down and set my backpack on the floor beside me.  Thinking that I should let my parents know that I am at the ER, I pull my phone out of my pocket. I start a group text with both my mom and dad and text them, “I am at the ER. I threw up again last night.  I feel worse than yesterday but still have the same symptoms.  I will let you know what the doctor says after I am seen.”               I put my phone back in my pocket and settled back into the uncomfortable chair.  Resting my eyes for a moment, I feel my phone vibrant multiple times in my pocket.  Pulling my phone back out of my pocket, I see that I got both a text from Mom and Dad.  They both responded with variations of calling them as soon as I saw the doctor.  I text them back, that I will.  After putting my phone back into my phone, I go back to trying to rest my eyes while I wait to be seen.  Within about 10 minutes of waiting, I start to feel the need to go to the bathroom. Not wanting to chance having an accident, I gather my belongings and head to the restroom.  I open the door to the restroom and see that it is a small group restroom with nobody inside.  Consisting of three sinks, a urinal, a regular stall, and a handicap stall, I push the door open to the regular stall.  As soon as I see the toilet, I feel the need to poop increase immediately.  Not wanting to waste any time, I set my backpack down and pulled my pants down to sit on the toilet.  With very little effort, my bowels unleash another colon’s worth of mud.  After waiting a few minutes to make sure I was done, I wiped my bottom, flushed, and gathered back up my belongings.  I exit the stall and walk over to the sink to wash my hands.  After drying off my hands, I leave the restroom and make it back to my seat to continue waiting to be seen. As I am sitting down and waiting, I feel myself nod in and out of consensus.  For what could have been either 20 minutes or an hour, my eyes snapped open to the sound of someone saying, “William Gauss.”  I look over to where I heard the voice coming from to see a nurse wearing the same light blue scrubs as the intake woman.  She is standing near, where I assume is the triage area from before.  Making my way to her, I notice that she has brown hair up in a ponytail and dark brown eyes.  As I approach her, I am greeted by her saying, “Hi my name is Sandy and I will be getting your visit started today.  Please follow me.” I nod and follow behind her.  Walking around the corner, my suspicions are correct and it is a triage area.  I see a couple of chairs along one of the walls, some medical equipment mounted on the wall above, a scale in one of the corners, and a small table on wheels with a laptop sitting on top.  She gestures for me to take a seat in one of the chairs and then sits on a stool with wheels.  Rolling up in front of me she asked, “What brings you to the emergency room today?” I proceeded to tell her about my symptoms over the last two days as she is taking notes on her laptop.  She then stated, “Well it is a good thing that you came in, at the very least to get fluids. You are probably very dehydrated.  I am now going to take your vitals.” She then takes my blood pressure and temperature.  After recording on her laptop she said, “Your temperature is normal at 98.4 and your blood pressure is a little elevated, at 132 over 74, but that is normal for someone needing to visit the ER.  Let’s now get your height and weight.” I get up and walk over to the scale.  Standing on the scale, she starts to slide the different weights across the beams.  When the scale is balanced, I look at the number with shock.  I now only weigh 135 pounds.  She then measured my height and asked me to sit back down. Sitting back down at her laptop she states, “I have you recorded at a 135 pounds and 5 foot 10 inches.” With concern in my voice, I say, “Are you sure?” She responds, “Yes, is there a problem?” Trying not to trip over my words, I say, “I expected to have lost some weight, but I usually weigh 155 pounds.  I also should be 6 feet even, I have been that height since I started 11th grade.” Pausing for a moment, she looked at me and said, “Well that is something to take note of.  I will make a note in your file.” As she is typing on her laptop, I can tell by her body language alone, that this is not normal.  But she, remaining professional, is trying not to worry me.  A few minutes later, she asked me to follow her. Walking behind her, I see that she is taking me back into the main area of the emergency room.  We pass what looks to be a nurse’s station and small rooms for other patients.  She leads me to a room with the door open.  Stepping inside, I see that it will be the room that I will be staying in while I am here.  The room is simple with a single-size hospital bed with side railings that can be raised and lowered, a table on wheels that can be used to eat off of in bed, and a single chair in the corner.  On the bed, I can see a folded hospital gown and a pair of grippy hospital socks. Turning to me, she said, “Please undress and put on the gown.  A nurse who will be taking care of you for the rest of your visit will be here in a few minutes.  I hope you feel better soon.” Despite how bad I feel, I muster up a small smile and thank her.  With that, she turns around, leaves, and shuts the door behind her.  I immediately toss my backpack onto the chair and set the page of barcode stickers and vomit bag on the table.  I take my sweatshirt and tee shirt off, fold them up, and set them on the table.  I don the gown and with a little difficulty, tying the ties on the back of the gown together.  After slipping my shoes off, I put on the hospital socks since I didn’t put on socks this morning.  I go and open the door to the room and take a seat on the bed.  After waiting a few minutes, there is a knock on the door frame. Coming in is a nurse with a large white cart. The cart has cabinets on its lower half with drawers occupying the top half.  On top is a laptop.  The nurse is wearing light blue scrubs like the rest of the staff, she has black hair and green eyes. When she gets into the room, she introduces herself, “Good morning William, my name is Caty and I will be taking care of you today.” I responded, “Hi Caty, you can just call me Will.” Caty said, “Certainly, Will, I see that you are having trouble with your stomach and have body and headaches.  I want to start by getting a quick medical history.” She then proceeded to ask me about my medical history, luckily, it was very short, with only a few ER visits in my lifetime.  She next asked me about allergies, which I have none.  Then onto occupation, which I say that I am a full-time grad student at ASU. Finally, she asked me about smoking, alcohol, and recreational drugs.  I responded with no to all but having a few drinks a few times a month. After she finished taking all my information down, she states, “I am going to now start an I.V. for you with some fluids.  Are you right-handed or left-handed?”  I said, “I’m right-handed.” Caty then said, “Alright, I am going to put the I.V. in your left arm.” She pulls out an I.V. needle, alcohol swob, and rubber tourniquet.  She wraps the tourniquet around my upper arm and wipes down the underside of my forearm with the swob.  With the needle in hand, she finds a vein and says, “Big pinch.”  With morbid fascination, I watch as the needle slowly enters my arm. After putting tape over the I.V., she takes all the trash from putting in my I.V., then takes a bag of fluids from the cart.  She then scans the barcode on the bag of fluids and then scans my hospital bracelet.  After setting up the bag on the I.V. poll and connecting it to my I.V. She presses some buttons on the machine on the I.V.  poll that regulates the flow of fluids.  Walking back to her cart she states, “I started pumping you with fluids, and the whole liter will be in you in about an hour.  With how dehydrated you are, it should make you feel a little better.  The doctor will see you soon and in the meantime, if you need anything, you can press the call button and I will be here as soon as possible.” I thank her, and she pushes the cart back out of my room and leaves the door ajar.  Deciding to rest while I wait, I raise the head of the bed into a reclined position, lean back, and shut my tired eyes for a minute.  I awakened to a knock on the door.  Walking into my room, I see a woman in her forties wearing green scrubs and a white lab coat.  She has shoulder-length blonde hair and blue eyes.  With a smile, she said, “I’m Dr. Richerson and I will be your attending doctor today.” While looking at a tablet in her hand, she states, “It looks like you are here for vomiting, irregular bowel movements, joint/body aches, and headaches.” I nod and while looking at the almost empty bag of fluids, notice that my head does not hurt as much as before.  I then said, “Well, I think the fluids are helping, my head does not hurt as bad as before.” She nodded, then said, “On a scale of 1 to 10, 1 being a slight tickle and 10 being your arm being cut off, how much pain are you in?” “I think it would be about a 5.  I am in a lot of pain, but it is not agonizing.” She asked, “Have you tried taking any over-the-counter pain medicine?” “I tried taking Tylenol yesterday, but ended up just throwing it back up.” She said, “I will put in an order to get you some I.V. pain medicine,  In the meantime, I want to do a physical exam of you.” Taking her stethoscope, she pulls my gown up and listens to my heart, lungs, and stomach.  After pulling my gown back down, she said, “I don’t see or hear anything abnormal from the physical exam.  Without running a fever, it does not appear to be an obvious infection.  It is worrying, that it is noted that you have lost about 20 pounds and 2 inches in height.  It is normal to get a few inches shorter throughout a lifetime, but you being a healthy 27-year-old, should not be getting shorter yet.  I am going to order a CT scan of your abdomen, legs, and arms.  I am also going to order a blood panel test and urine test.  As far as the headaches, I do believe it is just from severe dehydration, getting more fluids should help with that.” I said, “It definitely was shocking when I got weighed and measured earlier.” She responded, “After all of the test results come back in, we should be able to find out what is going on.  Your nurse will be back shortly to start getting you ready for the test.” I thank the nice doctor and she walks back out of my room.  A few minutes later, Caty comes back into my room with the large cart.  She said, “Well, it seems that Dr. Richerson has put in the order to run some tests and give you some pain medicine.” I nod in agreement.  I then see her pull out a syringe from one of the drawers, scans it, then scans my bracelet again.  She then said, “This is a low dose of morphine, this should help with your pain.”  As soon as she pushes the syringe into my I.V., I start to feel relief and my body starts to relax.  With the constant pain I was in, and the morphine taking it away, I finally realized the scale of pain I was in before.  Caty walks back to the cart and I can see that she is getting the supplies needed to draw blood samples.  Walking back to my right side, she sets all the supplies beside me on the bed.  She then said, “I am going to draw some blood for the blood panel test.” After saying “OK”, she then goes through the process of tying a tourniquet around my upper arm, wiping my forearm with an alcohol swab, and drawing three vials of blood.  With the blood drawn, she throws all the medical waste away and takes three of the stickers off the sheet to label the vials, and puts it on her cart.  She then grabs a small clear cup with a lid, takes another sticker on it, and sets it on the table. Turning to me she said, “This cup is for a urine sample, I know you are pretty dehydrated, but as soon as you need to go, there is a bathroom down the hallways near the nurse’s station that you can use.  Once you have the sample, you can leave it at the nurse’s station.  There will be someone here shortly to take you to get a CT scan.” With that statement, she pushes the cart back out of my room.  Alone with my thoughts, I can finally think a little more clearly with the morphine and the fluids taking my mind off of the constant headache and body aches.  I have a sinking feeling in my gut that this is not going to be an easy fix.  Before I can let my mind go to worst-case scenarios, an orderly walks in pushing a wheelchair.  The orderly is a man wearing the same light blue scrubs as all the other nurses and he looks to be in his early twenties with brown hair and brown eyes. He looked at me and said, “Are you William Gauss?” I said, “Yes.” He then said, “I’m here to take you to get a CT scan, can you please sit in the wheelchair.” With just a nod, I slowly get out of bed and sit in the wheelchair.  At the same time, he takes my I.V. bag and pump and attaches it to the I.V. poll on the back of the wheelchair.  Moments later, I am being wheeled down the hallway to radiology.  Pulling up to radiology, the orderly parked the wheelchair and said to me that someone would be with me shortly and then walked away. A minute later, the radiologist walks out and introduces himself.  He is in his thirties and is wearing a darker blue set of scrubs than all the other staff that I have seen.  He has black hair, glasses, and brown eyes.  He said, “My name is Sean and I will be giving you a CT scan today, is your name William Gauss?” I said, “Yes, but you can call me Will” He responds, “Let's get started, it should only take about 15 minutes.” He then pushes my wheelchair into an almost empty room with the CT machine in the middle.  He wheels me up to where the table is to lay down on.  He then instructs me to lie down on the table and with a little help I am situated on the table.  I then see him walk to a side room with a large viewing window.  Over the intercom, I hear, “Alright Will, I am going to start your CT scan, there will be times that I will ask you to hold your breath to get a good image.  Please stay as still as possible and we should be able to get you on your way as soon as possible.” Moments later, the table started moving.  He processed to scan me as I listened to his commands to hold my breath at certain intervals; all the while, trying to stay as still as possible.  True to his word, I was sitting back outside of radiology, 15 minutes later, waiting for an orderly to come and take me back to my room.  I see the same orderly walk back up to me and takes me back to my room. As soon as I get settled back in my room, I get the need to pee.  Getting out of bed, I unplug the I.V. pump and push the I.V. poll over to the table to grab the urine sample cup.  I then make my way down the corridor to the bathroom.  Opening up the restroom, which just has a toilet and sink, I shut the door behind me and stood in front of the toilet.  I take the lid off of the cup and set it on the sink.  With my free hand, I pull my sweatpants down and lift my gown up.  I start to empty my bladder into the toilet then take the cup to collect a sample.  After getting a sample, I notice that my urine is a dark shape of yellow, almost brown.  Thinking to myself that I must be very dehydrated and then realizing that this was the first time that I peed since Tuesday night before bed.  I flush the toilet, pull my sweatpants back up and screw the lid tight onto the cup.  After washing my hands, I exit the bathroom pushing my I.V. poll, with sample cup in hand, to the nurse’s station.  As soon as I set the cup down on the counter, I am hit with the need to poop.  Without wasting any time, I bolt back to the bathroom, shut the door, and yank my pants down.  Sitting on the toilet while holding up my gown, I release another mudslide into the toilet.  After waiting a moment to make sure I am done, I wipe, flush, and wash my hands again.  I make it back to my room and after plugging back in my I.V. pump, I lay back down in bed.  As soon as I start to get comfortable and shut my eyes, Caty walks into the room. With a bag of fluids in one hand and a paper cup in the other, she said, “Hi Will, I saw that you left me a urine sample.  I have another bag of fluids to give you since your current bag is almost empty and Dr. Richerson wants to try and see if you can keep anything down.  I have a hot cup of plain chicken broth for you to drink.” Setting the cup on the table beside me, she goes to the other side of the bed to switch out the bag of fluids.  After reminding me that if I need anything to hit the call button, she walks back out of my room.  I take the cup in my hand and begin to sip on the warm broth.  After a few minutes, the cup is empty; I set it back down on the table and lay back down.  With the warm broth in my stomach, I fall asleep almost immediately.  My eyes shoot open and I am met with the impending need to vomit.  I reach over to the table and grab the vomit bag and projectile vomit all of the chicken broth backup into the bag.  After catching my breath, I reached over and hit the call button.  A few minutes later, Caty walks back into the room.  Seeing me with a bag full of vomit, she said, “I will be right back.”  A minute later, she walks back in with a new vomit bag and a cup. She said, “Well it was worth a try.  Here is some water to wash your mouth out with.” I take the cup, take a sip, swish it around in my mouth, then spit it into the used bag. She hands me a napkin that I use to wipe my mouth with and throw it into the bag.  She then takes the used bag from me and throws it away. I ask, “How much longer until I get my results back.” Caty said, “We are still waiting on the blood work and urine sample results to come back. As soon as those results are in, Dr. Richerson will review them and will come and talk to you about your results.” I thanked her and laid back down and fell back asleep.   I wake up to someone gently shaking my shoulder.  I open my eyes and see that it is Dr. Richerson. “Hey Will, sorry for waking you, I got all your test results back and want to go over them with you.” I said, “That is alright, I am ready to know what is going on with me.” She stated, “Well, your results were a little off.  Your urine sample shows high levels of calcium.  Looking at your blood work, it also shows high levels of calcium and creatine kinase.  Your CT scan shows that there are no issues with your abdomen, but all your joints that were scanned show signs of inflammation.” With a slight catch in my voice, “What … does this mean?” She responds, “Your results are a little inconclusive, but it does look like some kind of autoimmune response.  With the high levels of calcium and creatine kinase, it looks like your body is attacking its bones and muscles.  We will have to run more tests to find out what exactly is going on.  Also with you unable to eat and drink on your own, I am going to have to admit you into the hospital.”
    • Wow, another really big poopy in my diaper, must be the Metamucil.  Besides the healthy aspects of fiber, the big loads in my diaper are intensely pleasurable and hypnotic. Fortunately, I don't mind cleaning up and changing my messy diaper, simply a perfunctory responsibility after the intense emotional and physical catharsis of going potty in my diaper. I'm up early with a big poopy in my wet Attends Premier diaper, soooo warm and squishy. I had blue print plastic pants on from Babykins, but took them off before I sat down, Even though I am sitting here and compressed the load in my diaper, I think I am sitting 3 inches higher, epic poopy diapee!!
    • I make a point every Thursday to check how this story is going. Sam is a very interesting character. She's super insecure and defensive about the optics of her condition, she's had these lifelong mental blocks in place to distance herself from it, and now that she's been forced to face that wall head on she's realizing that nobody thinks less of her, and that she's allowed to be vulnerable. She's slowly latching onto Nina as a kind of safety blanket through the process...and now Nina seems to have cottoned on to what's going on and is trying to coax Sam out of her shell. At least that's my read of it? This is a great story Elfy 😁 Looking forward to seeing how the endgame plays out.
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