It's bound to hit everyone at some point. It's totally unavoidable, but nobody wants to talk about it. Songs have been written about it, South Park pokes fun at it on a nearly episode by episode basis. That's right, I'm talking about the big D. Although I've heard it referred to in other ways. One friend calls it the ninja, because it sneaks up on you, and even when you think you have it beat, it comes back for one last kick in the pants.

The big D hit Orlando over the past week. I was not the only victim. It might have originated with my friend and her husband, who were put out of commission over the weekend. By now it's spread not only to me, but to several of my friends. The big D nearly put the kibosh on my personal fitness class on Wednesday, but come hell or high water I was bound and determined to work out and not look like a schlub on the first workout of the semester. Instead I had to run halfway through to the girl's locker room, praying for an empty place of solace. I gripped the sides of the stall and gritted my teeth. I kept thinking, this too shall pass.

The only thing worse than trying to find an empty public restroom during the big D is being stuck in traffic. I halfway wanted to drive down the median to the next exit and make a run for it, tires and undercarriage be damned. Winnie the Pooh used to talk about a rumbly in his tumbly, but he was talking hunger. My stomach's been talking to me for days now, but despite its hunger, it's not been very cooperative.

So on that pleasant note, I ask you. What do you call the big D? And why are we so ashamed of it?

Labels: . restroom, bathroom, society