the pooey stall

So something's been going on at work, and I just have to tell someone about it, and it's too mean to really tell my co-workers, so I'll just tell you guys and hope for the best.

There's a woman I work with who has a colostomy bag. Ok, well, I don't know that for a fact. What I do know is that she has some set up that involves what I can only call a Poo Tube. And when my firm was at our old location, you could periodically come into the bathroom to find her washing out her poo tube in one of the sinks. (Not exactly the most appetizing of events.)

Luckily, when we moved to our new location, the firm built a stall especially for her -- one with a sink inside of it, where she can cleanse her poo tube with anonymity. And that has eased the poo tube viewing conundrum considerably.

However, a number of my other co-workers, who never had the pleasure of viewing the poo tube cleansing, and have absolutely no knowledge whatsoever of even the existence of the poo tube, have started to use the special stall. They don't know that the sink in there is all pooey. I bet they think it's less pooey than the other sinks that get shared by everybody.

And the worst part of all this is that while my other coworkers are in her stall, the special coworker is cleaning her poo tube in the regular sinks -- but not while the special-stall-hogging coworkers can see it happening!

It's like a very pooey moebius strip.

That nobody can really talk about.*



*I would like to make it clear that I in no way blame the special coworker. In fact, she's always been very decent about her situation, and very businesslike about something that must be fairly embarrassing and unpleasant for her. I do, however, blame my special-stall-hogging coworkers for not knowing something that they have absolutely no reason to know. Because that's the kind of girl I am.