9 minutes to the toilet. Bowel urgency vs. a veteran with chronic stomach pain. Who will win?

The second wave has arrived. It's three minutes earlier than I calculated. There likely won't be a third wave this time. The next phase is the final one. In other words, defecation.

Having had a weak stomach since I was a child, I never panic. The first thing I must do is assess the potential damage if I were to defecate in my pants.

First, I'll organize the situation. It's just past 11:00 PM. I'm trudging home from work. There are few people around. I'm nine minutes from home. Based on how my stomach feels, I'll likely make it. Even if I do have an accident, it won't be a major problem.

Next, I'll check my clothing. Basically, I only need to worry about my lower half. I'm wearing boxer briefs and a suit. Long pants, of course. Depending on the type and volume of the stool, it shouldn't be noticeable unless something truly catastrophic happens. Both are cheap, so in the worst-case scenario, I can just throw them away. I'm relieved for now.

After assessing the damage of defecating in my pants, I've concluded that even if I do have an accident, it won't be a major problem. I might lose my dignity as a human being, but that doesn't matter anymore. Five minutes to the toilet at home.

Next, I'll consider the option of defecating at a convenience store in advance. In short, I need to decide beforehand whether or not to stop at a convenience store along the way.

Amateurs at stomach pain might wonder, 'Huh? Of course you'd stop, right?' Naive. Too naive.

We veterans with chronic stomach pain don't choose to defecate at a convenience store recklessly. If someone happens to be in the toilet, the psychological damage would be too great. It's dangerous to choose convenience store defecation lightly. The key to whether or not I defecate is held not by my anus, but by my mind.

By the way, we veterans with chronic stomach pain generally know the toilet situation of the convenience stores around our homes. I have everything memorized: whether or not I need permission from the staff to use the toilet, whether there's a bidet, the atmosphere, the size, and so on.

As for my decision, it's 'don't stop.' There's a Lawson on the way, but I've decided to pass it by. The reason is the point I mentioned earlier, and also because I've judged that I'll make it since I'll be home in five minutes.

In any case, I'll hurry home. So far, so good. The stomach pain has subsided temporarily. I can see my apartment building. Three minutes to home.

I arrive at the entrance. I insert the key I had ready, turn it to the right, and open the automatic door. I slip in the moment there's just enough space for a person to pass through. I head toward the elevator hall with quick steps. That's where the trap was laid. There were people waiting for the elevator. Two of them. Usually, there's no one here at this time.

There are two problems that arise in this case.

The first is that there's a possibility the elevator will stop up to two times before reaching my floor. The second is that if I defecate in the elevator, it will likely be noticed. If I had anticipated that there would be people in the elevator hall, I would have chosen to 'stop at Lawson.' I can't regret it enough. A painful mistake.

However, if my mind breaks here, everything is over. There's a famous quote that says, 'The game is over the moment you give up,' and that's exactly it. I would lose something much greater than losing a game.

I manage to pull myself together and think of my next move. The answer I came up with was, 'Let the two of them go first, and then get on the elevator when it comes back.' I want to praise myself for coming up with the optimal solution in less than 10 seconds.

The elevator arrives. I let the residents pass, who look at me with puzzled expressions as if to say, 'Why aren't you getting on?' If I can endure this time, I win. It's okay. I've experienced this many times before, haven't I?

Because my mind is becoming unsettled, I don't look at the electronic display showing the elevator floor. I close my eyes to eliminate visual stimulation. I look at myself from above as if I were having an out-of-body experience. In any case, it's important to take my consciousness away from my anus. It's okay, it's okay. I'll definitely make it.

'Good evening.' I was spoken to from behind. It was the voice of a new resident waiting in line. My reaction was a split second late because I was having an out-of-body experience. I replied with a big smile, 'Good evening.' And then I headed toward the outdoor stairs next to the elevator, which almost no one uses. My pace climbing the stairs was slower than usual.

***

Come to think of it, Hiroyuki posted something like this on X the other day.

"It has been discovered that people who have had an accident have higher annual incomes. Everyone who wants to be rich, let's do our best!"

Apparently, when a survey was conducted on 1,400 men and women, those with higher incomes were more likely to answer that they had "had an accident." It is said that about half of the people with an annual income of 10 million yen or more answered that they had "had an accident."

I pressed "like" on that post with so much force that I thought the iPhone screen might crack.

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