We asked the BuzzFeed Community to tell us their worst diarrhea horror stories. The responses were incredible, but one submission reigned supreme. Here is the tale from user mauram42. Buckle up.
For this story's purpose, I'm going to refer to "mauram42" as Carol.
Everything started innocently enough: "It was my freshman year of college, and my antibiotics were wreaking havoc on my digestive system."
Because it was Carol's freshman year, she decided not to let her intestinal issues ruin her weekend: "I knew I was going to be seeing a certain guy at a party, so I wore my tightest skirt and probably drank a little more than was advisable."
A few hours had passed, and Carol was on her way to the guy's dorm room, and that's when things start to go awry.
"He had a top bunk, which required some maneuvering to get to, but we ended up making it up there and ~hanging out~."
"Due to my barely-contained gastrointestinal distress, I kept everything above the waist, for fear of losing my already-precarious control over my intestinal muscles."
The guy suggested that Carol sleep over, and she unwisely agreed. That's when things went horribly, horribly wrong.
"I had such a bad stomach ache that I couldn’t fall asleep. I decided that it was impossible to get down and back up to the bunk bed without waking up both him and his roommate, so..."
"When I was sure he was asleep, around 3 a.m., I very carefully parted my butt cheeks to release the most silent fart possible, but liquid hell came out."
"I’m talking, like, that first splatter when you have diarrhea and you make it to the toilet and sit down and it just lets loose.”
*heavy breathing*
"I panicked. I could feel my skirt and underwear barely holding the mess in (thank GOD I wore such a tight skirt – it was instrumental in keeping this mess from dropping out)."
BUT THEN THE BOY WOKE UP.
Carol knew she needed to escape, but how?!
"In my poop-induced panic, I gave him a hand job to distract him."
*heavier breathing*
When that was ~finished~ she immediately said she had to go, but HE INSISTED ON WALKING HER HOME.
Carol talked him out of it, and he walked her to his bedroom door IN THE DARK.
"I was as red as a beet from the embarrassment of having actually given a hand job as my big solution to this issue, and I needed to extract myself as soon as I could."
"I walked home, across campus, with liquid shit running down my legs... and then I realized I left my keys at his place."
"Thankfully, my RA was awake and let me into the dorm, in all of my diarrhea-soaked splendor."
A valuable lesson was learned that day: "Needless to say, I haven’t consumed alcohol while on antibiotics since."
And the best part? "I ended up dating the guy for almost three years after this happened."
"And I found out a year ago that he had NO idea I liquid-shat myself in his bed that first night. He fondly remembered the hand job, though…"
You're the real MVP, Carol. Thank you.
