I stepped into an elevator at work today just as another patient joined me. It was only the two of us. He was in the hospital for, among other things, ulcerative colitis, and thus was having large amounts of bloody diarrhea.
A few seconds into the ride a loud rumbling noise emerged from the depths of his GI tract, prompting a look from me in his direction. He proudly clutched his belly and announced, "Sorry, I've got gas!" When the elevator stopped on his floor, he walked out wearing nothing but his hospital gown ... which, at this time now, was dripping multiple globs of light brown watery stool with each forward step.
As if that weren't bad enough, while walking out myself, I accidentally stepped in one of his disgusting puddles.
I spent the next hour at a nursing station with every anti-infective spray, cream, and wipe that they had. You can find my shoes in the garbage.