Who stepped in it? It was me. This hasn’t happened since I was a kid, I’ve been habouring something that’s verging on a phobia since I had to sit on the front doorstep wiping dog poo off my school shoes with paper towels, not one of my more happy childhood memories, since then I have been very careful with regards to wear I walk. I have walked head down watching where I walk; tip toed around my grandparent’s farm buildings trying to avoid the cow poo. This last poo induced horror happened when I was around eight years old, 31 years on and my meticulous attention to wherever I go had paid off until…..last Saturday. There I was making my way to the West Midlands Support Group meeting which I had organized, the journey was short, to the end of the close, a few yards along Shaftesbury Avenue, to the end of another short cul-de-sac and follow a short path around to the community centre, before I reached the end of the path, which may I add follows round the corner of a playing field – a popular starting point for dog walkers, saw a fellow ticcer waiting for me and shouted to her, carrying on I lost my concentration and splodge, I felt it, squidgy and vile between my shoe and the ground, I felt sick, I froze, the confirmation was there, a squashed turd imprinted with the markings of the bottom of my shoe – luckily a shoe that was due to be replaced. I’ve gone through what I would do if this scenario ever happened, rather like a fire drill. Here’s the drill that I have had planned in my head for many years.
1. Take off shoes.
2. Dispose of shoes.
3. Go home, do not pass “go” do not collect £200. If I do pass a shoe shop en route, all the better and purchase a replacement pair.
Simples, this was the plan, no deviation. So of course Mum and daughter ticcers come over to me to see what I’ve got upset about. “Just wipe it on the grass”, “There’s not much there” “Put them in the washing machine when you get home” this is coming from two women who also have OCD; daughter ticcer has wipes for every eventuality. In my mind these suggestions are flawed, if I wiped my foot on the grass there would still be poo particles on my shoe, there would also be poo particles on the grass that an unsuspecting person could pick up, this option is just gross, although that’s what I do with support from the pair. Putting them in the washing machine when I get home is also a no-no, even after washing them I KNOW there was poo on them, I will also worry that there will be poo particles in my washing machine, even after running a wash with nothing I would worry that the poo particles would end up on my clothes.
As I’m expected and people are arriving for the meeting I make my way across the car park still worrying about my shoes as soon as I get in I just have to get rid of them, my mum and daughter friends are still trying to calm me down. Off with the shoes, I get puzzled looks from the other people in the large foyer area, in addition to us ticcers there’s the dance tutor from a children’s dance school and a handful of parents with children in dance-attire. To me the shoes are no more. The meeting goes well and my partner is texted with instructions to bring me a clean pair of shoes. I carry on in socks, this isn’t too good considering I sprained my ankle about 3 weeks ago and I’m still struggling to walk, also when the coprolalia kicks in it’s often accompanied with a shoulder jerk and a right foot stomp, the right ankle is the sprained one, ouch! I’m dropped off home afterwards by mum and daughter; the shoes were disposed of via the community centre bin.
Since then I have been OK (considering), the village pharmacy messed up my meds, knowing that I was laid up with a sprained ankle they forgot to deliver my meds supply thus leaving me without any Carbarmazipine and Flupentixol, suffered nasty headaches, felt dizzy, faint and nauseous and my hands sometimes felt numb plus hearing my partner call me when clearly he hadn’t. Monday I spoke to my CPN, mainly with regards to the pharmacist’s mistake (he did apologize) and by Monday my partner did go and get the missing pills. With regards to the dog poo incident I know that it’s not normal, my CPN described normal, and he said he’d just hose it off in the back garden rather than throw the shoes away there and then. What would I have done if rather than wearing a pair of £9.99 converse copies I was like an ex-colleague wearing a pair of Jimmy Choo’s or a pair of Roberto Cavalli creations? Sadly, I am also aware and have memorized where every doggy deposit is between my house and the village shop, (that’s OTT) I have not gone running around the village, the outskirts are a cross-country runner’s paradise due to the fear that I’d get dog poo on my trainers (is that an excuse or another case of me being OTT) I was planning on training and getting fit and entering a half marathon, but being the klutz that I am I fell down the stairs and sprained my ankle (that’s another story). Also either crossing the road or walking in the road is OTT when it comes to avoiding poo, I also worry that where I walk was once a spot where there was a turd thus poo particles transfer to my shoe. I could go on; I should just shut up and go away.
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