When I embark on a trip, it’s as if my backside develops a serious case of homesickness. The moment I lock the front door and set off—whether in a car, taxi, or plane—my rear end seems to declare, “No way! I miss home and my toilet. This door won’t open again until I’m back on my own throne, thank you very much.”
I suffer from a peculiar condition I like to call Fecal Stage Fright. You see, when I travel, I simply cannot poop. Perhaps it’s a nervous response? It’s like a reverse twitch because there’s absolutely no movement happening down there. While some people experience the opposite problem, with anxiety leading to explosive situations, I am just stuck. I am literally unable to “drop the kids off at the pool.”
And believe me, I give it my all. I perch on the toilet, take deep breaths, and even turn on the shower hoping the steam will help me relax. I play soothing music, thinking maybe some gentle Enya will coax my bowels into action. I even bring my suitcase into the bathroom, using it as a makeshift squatty potty. I offer motivational talks to my rear end. But to no avail. Once I’m away from home, my sphincter becomes as tight as Fort Knox.
On the bright side, there are perks to my travel constipation. I avoid those awkward moments in public restrooms, waiting for the coast to be clear before I can have my private moment. There’s no need for rushed “Excuse me!” moments when I feel like I’m about to burst. I don’t have to worry about stinking up my hotel room, which definitely keeps my travel companions happy. Plus, I can wear thongs all day long since no pooping means no potential skid marks. So yes, there are some silver linings to my predicament.
However, the discomfort can be quite intense. My appetite diminishes as I become so constipated that the thought of putting more food into my system makes me nauseous. Isn’t sampling the local cuisine one of the best parts of traveling? And there’s the bloating; my intestines feel like a jammed grain silo, making my clothes fit awkwardly and putting me in a foul mood. Not to mention the gas! Even though my backside is determined to stay sealed, something has to give eventually, and the results can be quite embarrassing.
It’s tough to enjoy myself when all I can think about is the urgent need to poop but can’t. On the outside, I look like your typical carefree traveler. “Yes! Traveling is such a blast!” But inside, I’m just a blocked-up blonde wishing I could down some stool softener for relief.
And every trip culminates the same way. I unlock my front door, and my rear end shouts, “Freedom!” Off I dash to the porcelain throne, armed with a gas mask and a good book because, trust me, I’ll be in there for quite a while.
So if you see me looking restless and uncomfortable out in the wild, it’s not you. I assure you, I don’t have a stick up my butt. It’s just poop.
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In summary, traveling can be a humorous yet uncomfortable experience when it comes to the inability to poop. While there are some benefits to this odd situation, the discomfort and bloating can make travel less enjoyable. Remember, it’s not you; it’s just a case of travel-induced constipation.