I finally discovered that, no matter how truthful my statements had been, she found a way to ricochet them back to my behavior as a child. Dad was sympathetic, for he knew that Mom's attempts to parallel one's behavior to that which one found disfavorable in others was one of her habits. I asked him whether I was like "this" or like "that," illustrating for him the exact scenario which I had placed before Mom, and often he would say, "No, you didn't do that… or at least not that bad." I only complained about those things which I felt I had not done, for I could not condemn a road that I had once walked as if my feet had never carried its dust. Finally, in exasperation, I decided my war against the kindergarten children should no longer be verbalized.
Feb. 4, 1976… I still have the runs, but the tutor came anyway. I didn't have to go while she was here anyway! I'm glad she came though, because it helps pass the day a little better. I stopped drinking the lemonade as it seems to "go right through" me. It made my diarrhea all foamy and icky. (Not to mention that the runs aren't icky and gross and all of that anyway!)
Feb. 9, 1976… I'm sure glad I don't have the runs anymore. Tutor came today. After she left I wrote 2 poems, although I still have to do some changing and correcting. One is about food, and the other is about the bed pans.
My idea of comic appeal found its way into the creative outlet of poetry. I figured that everyone could relate to the nastiness of having to use a bed pan even if they never had the misfortune to encounter one; after all, going to the bathroom was funny, if for no other reason than the fact that it brought humanity down to the elemental functions of the smallest insect. No one was above it.
"Diarrhea keeps the world running," and as long as I was able to keep laughing it didn't seem so bad. I showed two nonsense poems I had written to my tutor; she rewarded me with a smile. Neither of us mentioned submitting them for the yearly Junior High poetry collection, however. After she departed, I turned toward my lessons.
Homework. I held the word in my mind and reflected on my life. The word was befitting of my study habits; all my work was homework this year.
When You're In The Hospital
I say this from experience
For I know it's not much fun,
When you just gotta use the facilities…
But you can't get up to run!
There's a button that you push for a nurse,
Located somewhere near your bed,
Just hope she gets there in a hurry,
Or you've really something to dread.
She'll pull out something resembling
A well bent silver can…
Now you're the center of attention
Seated on that cold bed-pan!