As sometimes happens in nursing, I had an inordinately poo-filled night. And I wasn't the only one. It seemed like all the patients on the unit planned ahead and saved up their best contributions for last night.
If I wasn't cleaning poo, or testing poo, or documenting poo, or helping move a patient so they could be cleaned of poo, I was listening to the other nurses talk about their tips and tricks for dealing with poo.
At one point, while I was scooping a sample of poo into a specimen container with a plastic spoon, my imagination went a little overboard. And my brain said, "I'm never eating chocolate ice cream again."
Well, screw you, brain! You're not the boss of me, and I won't take that kind of mandate from a two pound lump of self-justifying grey matter. I'm having a chocolate fudge brownie sundae for breakfast, and there's nothing you can do about it.