“Hey… don’t you have diarrhea now?”
The question landed softly, but awkwardly, hanging in the air like a balloon no one wanted to pop. It wasn’t shouted. It wasn’t rude. It was asked with genuine concern—and unfortunately, terrible timing.
I froze mid-step.
Of all the questions someone could ask in public, this one ranked dangerously high on the list of please don’t say that out loud.
The Question That Should’ve Been Whispered
We were standing in a small shop, surrounded by shelves of snacks, bottled drinks, and a few curious strangers pretending very hard not to listen. The cashier paused. A customer behind us suddenly found the candy rack extremely fascinating.
And there it was again, quietly repeated.
“I mean… earlier you said your stomach hurt.”
Yes. I had said that.
No, I had not invited a full medical follow-up.
I cleared my throat. “Uh… I’m fine.”
“Are you sure?” they asked, leaning closer. “Because last time you said you were fine, you weren’t.”
They had a point.
When the Body Betrays You
It had started that morning.
A strange gurgle. A warning rumble. The kind your body gives you when it’s about to change plans without asking for permission.
I ignored it, like a fool.
Coffee was consumed. Breakfast was questionable. Optimism was high. Experience was ignored.
By late morning, my stomach had become a mysterious, emotional being with its own opinions. It reacted strongly to movement, noise, and hope.
Still, I told myself, It’s nothing.
It was not nothing.
Concern Disguised as Embarrassment
Back in the shop, I could feel my face heating up—not from illness, but from embarrassment.
“Can we talk about this later?” I whispered.
“But I’m worried,” they replied sincerely. “You didn’t eat lunch. You walked funny. And you’ve gone quiet.”
That last part stung. It was true.
Diarrhea doesn’t just attack the body. It attacks dignity.
Suddenly, life becomes about proximity to bathrooms, calculating distances, and questioning every decision that led you to this moment.
The Walk of Suspicion
We left the shop.
Every step felt monitored—not by them, but by my own stomach. It made noises that should require subtitles. I walked slightly faster, then slower, then stopped pretending everything was normal.
“So… still fine?” they asked gently.
I sighed. “Okay. Maybe not completely fine.”
There it was.
The truth.
“See?” they said, not triumphantly, but with relief. “Why didn’t you say so?”
Because no one wants to say so.
The Universal Human Experience
Diarrhea is the great equalizer.
It does not care about age, confidence, pride, or plans. It humbles CEOs and students alike. It reminds everyone that the human body is fragile, unpredictable, and occasionally rude.
When I finally admitted it, something interesting happened.
They didn’t laugh.
They didn’t judge.
They said, “Okay. Let’s get you home.”
No teasing. No drama.
Just care.
Small Kindness, Big Relief
On the way back, they slowed their pace to match mine. They pointed out nearby restrooms—not loudly, not obviously, but just enough for me to notice.
“Water?” they asked.
“Yes,” I said immediately.
They handed it over like it was medicine.
And in that moment, embarrassment gave way to gratitude.
Because yes, the question was awkward.
Yes, it was uncomfortable.
But it came from concern.
The Quiet Side of Friendship
People often think care has to be dramatic.
Big gestures. Long speeches. Emotional moments.
But sometimes care looks like this:
- Asking an awkward question
- Walking slower than usual
- Pretending not to notice discomfort
- Saying, “It’s okay. We’ll handle it.”
True friendship isn’t always poetic. Sometimes it’s practical.
Sometimes it’s digestive-system related.
The Humor Arrives Late
Later, safely at home, the situation became… funny.
Not during. Never during.
But after.
“I can’t believe you asked me that in public,” I said, laughing now that the danger had passed.
“Well,” they replied, “I was right, wasn’t I?”
Unfortunately.
We laughed—not because it was glamorous, but because it was human.
Lessons Learned the Hard Way
That day taught me several things:
- Listen to your body. It’s annoying, but usually correct.
- Don’t ignore warning signs. Especially gurgling ones.
- Real care isn’t always comfortable.
- Embarrassment fades faster than kindness.
And most importantly:
Sometimes the most caring question is also the most awkward one.
The Question Revisited
“Hey, don’t you have diarrhea now?”
It wasn’t a joke.
It wasn’t cruelty.
It wasn’t meant to embarrass.
It was concern, poorly packaged.
And maybe that’s okay.
Because life isn’t always polished. Sometimes it’s messy, awkward, and a little uncomfortable—just like being human.
Ending With Honesty
Next time, I won’t deny it.
I’ll just say, “Yeah. I think I do.”
Because pretending everything is fine doesn’t make it so.
And having someone who notices, asks, and stays—that makes all the difference.
Even if the question makes everyone in the shop very, very uncomfortable.
