A couple days ago, my coworker brought a delicious cheesy, gooey, chicken, spinach, artichoke dish to share for lunch. It looked so good, I helped myself to a healthy portion. Turns out, it was really good. I moved on with my day by going immediately to physical therapy for my plantar fasciitis. At physical therapy, my stomach started feeling a bit bubbly. After physical therapy, I had a hair appointment. It was a long appointment with foils including highlights, lowlights, and a cut. So, I get to my appointment, settle into the chair, and my stomach really starts to hurt. By the time she is putting the foils in my hair, I really need to fart. I am clamping my butt cheeks together, trying to hold it all in. If I knew my hairdresser a little better, I would have just told her the story. But even then, what would I do? Bolt outside to fart? What if I can’t fart on demand? Or even worse, what if it’s more than a fart? I can’t sneeze without peeing a little, so what does that mean for a hefty fart?

With little other options available, I sit in a sustained isometric Kegel. I go to a hairdresser that operates out of a little area in the front of her house, so it’s just her and me in this tiny room. There is no one else to blame and nowhere for the noxious air to escape to if I let it rip. So, I sustain a full 90 minutes of small talk through the appointment with all my butt muscles in full clamp mode. Moving to the sink for a rinse and hair wash becomes an enormous effort. Reclining in the chair to get my head to the sink is downright dangerous. At one point, I am actually sweating from exertion at the effort involved. Then I remember that my nose doesn’t work a high percentage of the time! What if I am releasing a small amount of gas despite my efforts? What if she is suffering even as I suffer? The situation was rapidly declining, and it didn’t start good!

When my hair was finally done, I almost ran out of the salon without paying. I am sure she was wondering why I was grunting as I laughed at my near mistake. Every second felt like a minute. I even wanted to buy some product, but I didn’t dare spend the extra time. When I finally broke free, I didn’t trust myself to release in the front yard. I waited until I was in my car, seated. Somehow, this felt safer. But then I had to drive home in my own stink. I think my car could have been powered by a different kind of gas on that drive. And it turns out my nose was working that day, so I got to suffer in a different kind of way on that drive.

I don’t think that there is a moral to the story, but my stomach took nearly 24 hours to feel better, probably because I held it in for so long. At least I had no other plans that evening, so I could fart to my heart’s delight while watching the Kansas City Chiefs beat the Broncos on Monday night football. Go Chiefs! And with all that Kegel clenching, maybe I will pee a little less when I sneeze. Win/win, right?