One might think because I write this blog and tell you things both impersonal and occasionally, thoughts that are of a personal nature, that I am a wide open book.  That would be incorrect.  If I were a house I would have many rooms.  I would let you in most of them, which would give you the illusion, the feeling that you were inside my personal world.  It would be untrue.  In my relationships with most people I very easily let them approach me.  People feel comfortable, sometimes overly so, to be who they really are with me with no fear of condemnation.  I truly embrace people for where they are, who they are and celebrate that in them - whatever that looks like.  I have some friends, who know me better than most people do, who say that I have a bit of mystery to me.  They would be correct.  They are alluding to the "rooms" that I keep to myself.  I am a free-spirit in a great many ways.  It's not that I won't let you in.  It's not even that you really notice I am keeping you out because you are so free to just be you with me that you don't think about me except how I make you feel.  That works to my great benefit!  When I met Doug, my second husband after a marriage of 25 years, it was instantaneous, passionate, soul connecting, white-hot love.  It still has not changed one iota.  Since we met and married within 30 days, we have been dating and being married simultaneously.  Interesting experience in your mid-life years.  Youth and raising kids are behind both of us, so is the prime of our bodies and health!  I have some major digestive problems.  They have plagued for me for many, many years.  If you read this blog you have read of my diarrhea situations.  If not, you should, though it is not for the faint of heart!  In the first week of meeting Doug, my friend Big D asked if I had openly shared my diarrhea issue with Doug.  Uh, yeah Big D, that's exactly what I did (sarcasm)!  How do you tell someone that amount of gross detail of your life without them being scared to death.  It's not that I was trying to hide it, but sipping wine over a table in a restaurant or snuggled up on the couch never seemed like the appropriate place.  Oh hell, when is the best moment to tell this new love of my diarrhea follies!  So I kept it in (double meaning humor here people!).  In fact, now that I am sitting here writing this I can think of another diarrhea post I need to write.  Diarrhea, while also being horrific, is funny.  So many things out of our control are!  Doug soon learned by sheer up close living that I frequented the bathroom many days.  He was very compassionate.  Just a few days ago, I shared that a handful of times in my adult life I have had uncontrollable diarrhea which resulted in several pooping-yourself-in-bed episodes.  We both laughed and then he turned to me, "Baby, that wouldn't make me love you any less."  He got to live out those words the very next night.  Diarrhea bowled over me for 2 straight days unrelenting.  After the first night of feeling like either a newborn or someone who should be wearing Depends, I lost all dignity.  After literally going to the bathroom some 30-40 times in a span of 5 hours, I was stripped of any morsel of pride, dignity or decorum.  It peeled away the wall.  I decided to let it all out with Doug.  There is nothing hot and sexy about massive diarrhea.  Nothing about describing what is coming out of you after 5 hours of diarrhea, or that you need Preparation H and a 50 gallon barrel of Vaseline and a pillow to sit on, that is romantic or appealing.  He didn't squirm.  Instead he was loving, compassionate and humorous with me and my stripped-to-the-bones sarcastic delivery of this information to him.  Now mind you I would rather NOT have to show this side of me to him.  I would rather be very private.  But it was impossible at this juncture.  We both laughed at what it has been like to be married and dating all at the same time.  When Doug moved in my house, my bathroom was half-done.  The fan/light was installed but not wired to the switch.  There were wires literally hanging from the wall, and a jimmy-rigged shingle holding back insulation from where the new fan was smaller than the original opening cut for the old fan.  That meant, anytime you went to the bathroom and there was no TV or music playing or water running at the sink, you could hear everything.  Doug played music loudly before going to the bathroom, and I ran the water while I was in there.  He shared that the first 6 months, until we got the bathroom done, he would hold the major bathroom explosions until he got to work.  I laughed!  I think ultimately my diarrhea was freeing for both of us to just be.  He took me in his arms and said, "Nancy, if diarrhea in bed doesn't prove that I can't stop loving you then I don't know what would.  If I have to clean you up some day, I will and I will love you through it."  I texted Big D and told her my diarrhea story.  She roared in laughter telling me she was glad I finally told Doug, and to eat less fiber.

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