Wednesday, July 15, 2015

Tell Me Your Deepest, Darkest Secrets

I started back running this week.

Thank goodness! And that sigh of relief is not just from me. I'm a much nicer person when I've been running.

Even the dogs hide from me when I'm not running
Of course I'm not fully recovered but I'm not too bad either. I felt tireder than normal after speed session on Tuesday and there was still the after-glow of the ITB pain that bothered me during the marathon. And my hamstrings were super-tight. So I was glad that I'd had the foresight to make another appointment with my physio.

My physio's been away on holidays with his wife so it was great to catch up on his news while I was being tortured. Hang on - great's probably too kind a word. Interestingly gross is probably more accurate because the only story he told me about his holiday was the diarrhoea one. There was no stories of great places to see in the Phillipines or interesting foods or amazing things to do. There was just a very descriptive tale of projectile evacuation in the Starbucks loos. He's such a good tale teller that I almost felt like I was there.

There was the moment when he realised all was not well. The moment when he couldn't decide whether he was going to chuck or poop. The moment when he realised that he was sweating profusely but he was so very cold. The moment of desperate knocking on the one cubicle door which was locked. The moment when he had to decide whether to use the urinal instead because the cubicle was staying locked. The moment when the fear of being caught bum-out hovering over the urinal was overtaken by the very real threat of making his shorts unwearable. And that moment when the other person did finally come out of the cubicle and they all lived happily ever after. It was kind of like a fairy tale. A very grimm fairy tale.

Earlier that day I'd been running with friends and over coffee one of them reminded me of our first run together and how I'd heard the story of his vasectomy which had happened only four days beforehand. Not that I'd forgotten. That story stands out as one of my top 10 in weird things I've heard on a run.

Those two events got me thinking. What is it about me that makes people want to share very personal stories? Is it that I have a tendency to over-share? Or is it that I can be quiet at times and the quiet disconcerts people so much that they spill all their deepest and darkest? Or is it that I secretly love all that stuff and they can sense it in me and try to fulfil my needs?

I was talking with another friend about it and she has the same thing happen to her. She's a nurse. I used to be a vet. Pretty much nothing grosses either of us out.

So I'm wondering does this happen to anyone else? Do people like to tell you really personal stuff? And what's the weirdest story you've ever been told?

14 comments:

  1. I'm continually amazed at what people will tell me so you are not alone!

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  2. I have no shame about that sort of stuff... but I don't know if it was always the case. I've told stories on my blog with my bouts of salmonella poisoning when I lived in Africa and toilet tragedies. I remember the first time I got sick and I was shocked by the explicit questions others asked me... and 18mths later I was as open and accustomed to the issue as they were! Sad, but true.

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  3. It's every day conversation in the hospital. As an RD, I gotta know: Is it going in, down and out okay? Maybe that's why it never shocks me what people tell me! LOL!

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  4. People tell me everything. Sometimes they show me everything. One lady brought me her husband's poop in a jar to ask me if he has worms. I'm a pharmacist, not a entomologist!

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  5. Over sharing makes for funny blog posts! (Hope the ITB issues get feeling better. That can definitely make life miserable.)

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  6. Oh my! No, this definitely does not happen to me. I can't say I've ever had anyone share anything super personal (or gross???) like that with me on a run!

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  7. I find that the more vulnerable you are for treatment the more 'they' feel they can share with you...

    ITB I'm not a fan of the foam roller for fixing a problem, I feel it really just pushes the ITB into the inflamed area! rather "cross-friction" I use my knuckle and rub up and down, across the band! (if it's sore your doing it right) don't stick to one place, but after a couple of 'rubbles' move up the band from the knee to the hip one inch at a time!

    Good luck

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  8. I'm more the type who tells people personal things and am often told to shut up and keep it to myself. I didn't know you used to be a vet. You still are a vet I gather, just not practising? Why did you give it up?

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    1. I haven't practised in decades but I guess I'm still a vet - a non-registered one who's forgotten most of the stuff she learned in uni. I gave it up because motherhood and vet hours didn't mesh well together.

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    2. Well now I know I'll annoy you with petty, stupid questions all the time ;)

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  9. So gross. At least you know him well - there's nothing worse than meeting someone new and within 5 minutes you feel like you know their life story.

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  10. Perhaps because of this hectic life people need to talk, to share their stories

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  11. I think that most people socialize with others sharing personal stories. I sometimes do the same.

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  12. Usually not but last week we had a guy over that was going to build a wall for us. He came checking some things out and had his wife with him. Within 5 minutes I had heard her complete medical story and let me tell you: it was gross. Luckily for me I had Bella on the leash for a walk so I could escape within 10 minutes :)

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