The doctor asked for a stool sample, so this morning my husband obliged.
He has been telling nurses for 90 minutes that it’s in the bathroom waiting for them.
I’ve been adding my own commentary to the conversations:
“It’s THIS BIG!”
“I just checked… it’s now three feet long.”
“I guess you’re used to people trying to give you crap.”
“I guess if they don’t take it away, we’ll have to go on undeterred.”
“Your request has been logged.”
“Well, that’s just shit.”
“You weren’t meant to fill the whole container, you know…”
“It just kept piling up like he’s a soft-serve machine or something.”
“Any drinks or fries with your order?”
“There’s a bear in there…”
It’s a gift.
Oh wait, I can use that, too.