Did you ever know a piece of useless information that was so unsavory and weird you could not tell it to ANYONE without them thinking you were weird for telling it? Yeah, this is that kind of thing. I have been burdened by this tidbit for years and am GRATEFUL for the opportunity to unload it on you folks and let it go live in somebody else's head under the category "Ewe."
For some reason, god knows why, I have a fascination for the lifestyles of the gigantic human. The morbidly obese fascinate me because I cannot wrap my head around the fact that someone has to provide the mountains of food, bedpans and other support that elephant-sized people require. Well, back in the 80's my best friend worked for the health department and she was complaining that her routine kept being interrupted by the followup social service-type visits to a morbidly obese woman. THe woman had been hoisted out of her house and moved by some kind of pulley arrangement a piano-moving company had that worked for getting morbidly obese people into an ambulance. In this case, they had gone back three times. Of course, I asked the logical question, why? My friend looked very uncomfortable and said she wasn't supposed to tell. That did it right there--I HAD TO KNOW. Finally, after my recalling past favors and offering inducements of borrowing certain clothing, she swore me to absolute secrecy, which I have kept until this very day. But I can't stand it any more and since the friend and I lost contact years ago, I'm telling you--
The woman had repeated infestations of cockroaches in her vagina.
I KNOW!-- a million questions come to mind. Here are a few of mine
(OMG how did she know? --she didn't, she was too fat to see, she just itched)
(Were they...eating her? --yeah, well biting anyway)
(How did they get rid of them? --iodine antiseptic douche)
(Why did they keep coming back? --she didn't move her position in bed enough)
(What were they going to do? --1) treat the house 2) teach her "caregiver" to give her the douches)
Anagrammy
