Everything comes down to poo

Do you remember Saturday mornings when you were younger? Did you get up really early in the morning to watch cartoons? Maybe jump on your parents' bed until they couldn't handle it anymore and they'd get up and make you pancakes or get ready for a fun-filled day? Why can't we have those days anymore?

You know what happened Saturday morning? I woke up to take a mad piss at 4:30 in the morning. I went back to my room (or not my room, the maid's quarters rather) and I was parched. I drank some water. And guess what happened then?

The big broken piece of my retainer came loose and followed the water down my throat.

As Chunk from The Goonies would say, "Ah shit!!!"

My parents were aware of the fact that my retainer was broken. And yes, they told me about a million times not to put the broken piece back into my mouth. I even told myself that. I said, "Self? Don't be stupid. Just throw it away. So your TMJ might act up and you might get a headache... but you don't want to swallow that thing now, do you?"

The ominous picture that was taken just days before the swallowing occurred.

A gloomy day. the plastic shard. San Antonio, TX.

I should've known. I SHOULD HAVE KNOWN! :-p

So It's 4:45 and I feel something stuck in my throat. I was at home at the time....perhaps I forgot to mention that. I was home for the weekend with Jorge. I guess now I see it as a very lucky thing because had it happened in San Antonio, it would have been much harder to get help. Okay, so I wake my parents up and tell them what's happened and they immediately say "emergency room." Crap. See, when I was a kid, I used to LOVE going to the doctor. I'd probably fake being sick just to go. But now? I realize how inconvenient it is and also, sometimes you just fear what your doctor may tell you. I refused for about a minute. And then it just hurt in my chest so I thought... NO...I have to go.

me: If I die....
mom: Don't you dare say that, Melissa! Don't give up on me now! You have to stay with us!

lol Okay, that didn't really happen like that. It was actually more like this:

me: If I die..
Jorge: (laughs)
mom: ay melissa, shut up!

My dad was taking forever to get ready but we finally left. Or at least we tried to leave. See, it had been raining that day so the outside tile was wet. I've lived with that tile in place for years so I knew that when it rained, it'd get REALLY slippery. So there I went, making my way across it and towards the car very carefully. Jorge? Oops. Forgot to mention to him that it might be a bit slippery. BAM! He fell! It was the best shit I have ever seen. It was like one of those dramatic falls where it's almost in slow motion. Jorge slipping and slowly making his way towards the grass, getting closer to the ground every split second. It's almost as I could even see his mouth open slowly...going... "NooooooOOOoooOOOooo!" He threw his keys up and they dramatically ended up on the grass. It was brilliant. I didn't laugh then. But once I was stuck in a room with my mom at the hospital? I laughed again and again. Just when I thought I was done? I'd start up again, replaying it all in my head.

So after hours and hours of waiting, they finally started doing x-rays and I was able to see the doctor. While I waited, the plastic piece ended up going down to the stomach....which is good and bad. Good because I didn't need a doctor to put something down my throat and fish it out. Bad because now? I have to shit it out. You heard me. I said I have to poop out a somewhat jagged piece of plastic. Crap. literally.

So? It might be painful. It might be embarrassing. But you know what? It's one to tell the children.

Jorge: "HAHAHA Hey kids, you wanna hear about the time aunt Mel shat out her retainer?"

I guess everything DOES come down to poo.



and in case you were wondering, I don't give a care. If I'm going to crap, I'm going to crap in style.