Back in September our good friend Peter came out to Seattle for a visit. This was before I was diagnosed with my colon condition and I felt so bad because this was our last full day together and we had planned to spend it at a winery in Woodinville. Sadly, it didn't turn out that way. Peter has a great way of telling a story and he typed this up after his visit and even though months have passed, I want to share it on here.
He titled it, "Laura's Intestinal Adventures" by Peter.
"On my last trip to Seattle, Tom, Laura and I decided to do a special lunch outing, hiking about three or four miles to a restaurant known for it's fish and chips and outdoor patio, where we could keep Wrigley tied up and close to us while we ate. Wrigley got some exercise, we all got some good food, it was a beautiful sunny day - perfect outing. So far.
We started the walk back to the house, stopping at a garage sale along the way, Amy called to see how we were; we bought some weird insulin bottles from the yard sale - sounds weird, but they looked kind of artsy-craftsy. We continued on our way home, I was talking to Amy, when Tom and Laura, who were walking ahead of me, stopped. Suddenly Laura was down on the ground. I told Amy I had to go.
Laura was crying, saying her insides hurt. Tom was trying to be consoling, but also a bit frustrated with the situation. We were in a neighborhood with all single-family homes, well manicured lawns, without a place to obtain a little privacy. Which was bad, because Laura was having issue in the Number Two department.
"What would you like me to do Laura?" Tom asked. Laura didn't know... it was about another two or three miles to get home and get the car. Tom continued: "you should have used the bathroom before we left." "I tried Tom!" Laura said. "I can't just make it happen!" Wrigley was getting fidgety and things weren't looking good. But as luck would have it, there was a sign advertising an Open House on the cross street where we stopped, so this provided an opportunity for a desperate plan.
Tom had a friend who was looking for a house in the area, so that would provide a pretext for him to ask the realtor about the house, and for Laura to use the bathroom. We discussed the plan, it wasn't the best - they couldn't bring Wrigley, I would have to stay with him, and Tom was worried he would freak out. With no other obvious options, this was the plan we had to go with. Off Tom and Laura went to the house, about a quarter mile off, and I hung out with Wrigley.
Wrigley was mostly well-behaved, but a bit fidgety, occasionally he would look in the direction of Tom and Laura as they disappeared from view, and bark. I would say "Wrigley, stop being a baby!" and he would calm down. Tom and Laura were gone for about 25 minutes.
When they came back, we discussed what our next plans would be - Tom was going to go for the car, I would wait with Laura. Tom took Wrigley and left, and Laura started to have digestive problems again.
I suggested that we walk back to the open house. Laura walked beside me, in small, brisk steps, as if she were squeezing her thighs together. We got up to the house - there was some mint-condition vintage automobile under a canopy. We stepped into the house, and there was a waterfall set into the wall, with mosaic tiling, nice carpeting, and a sweeping staircase leading upstairs, where you could hear the realtor discussing the house with a couple.... this was a house for rich people. Laura bolted into the bathroom, then came out after about five minutes. We went out onto the driveway and hung out for a few minutes, then Laura bolted back into the bathroom, keeping her thighs squeezed together. This process repeated itself several times. At one point I was just waiting on the driveway, when the couple came out. They put on the shoes they had left at the bottom of the stairs and left. Laura was taking some time in the bathroom. I could hear the realtor walking around upstairs, so I figured I should make our presence known.
I walked upstairs, the realtor said hello. I said "Do you remember the couple that was here before? There was a guy in a baseball cap checking out the house?" He did. "Well, his wife is feeling... kind of sick. She's in the downstairs bathroom. I just wanted to let you know she's here. She's kind of embarrassed. Sorry to impose on you... we're just waiting for her husband to come back with the car." The realtor was incredibly nice and understanding and said not to worry about it; what a relief! Laura came out, we hung out outside, and Tom came with the car.
Obviously the rest of the day was spent indoors."