Amanda woke up feeling worse than ever. Her entire body ached, her nose was stuffy, and she felt like she'd swallowed a bag of sand. She'd been struggling with a cold for days now, and it showed no sign of letting up. Normally, she would have fought through it with cold medicine and rest, but this time, something else was bothering her: her gut. She felt hot, nauseated, and her stomach was twisted in knots.
She could hardly move, let alone keep anything down. Every time she stood up, she felt dizzy and had to rush to the bathroom to empty her nauseated stomach. The runs were horrendous - loose, watery stools that wouldn't stop coming out of her poor, aching bottom. She tried to stay strong but eventually fell onto her bed, clutching at her stomach in agony as another wave of nausea washed over her. She couldn't even bring herself to sit up straight, curling over onto her side and whimpering softly in pain.
It was at this moment that Amanda realized she needed help - more than just cold medicine and rest. She needed someone - or something - else to rely on during this difficult time. And there was only one thing that could make her feel better when she was hurting like this: her trusty old toilet.
She couldn't help but think about the comfort it had provided her in the past; how it had always been there for her, no matter what. She pictured herself sitting on its cold, hard surface, the weight of her body pressing against it as she relieved herself of the pain and discomfort in her gut. Tears welled up in her eyes as she imagined how good it would feel to finally get some relief.
As if drawn to the idea, Amanda slowly made her way to the bathroom, barely managing to crawl on all fours. She reached under her bed and grabbed a plastic bag, just in case she had another accident. She then lowered herself onto the toilet seat, groaning with both pleasure and pain as she felt it quickly soothe away some of her discomfort. The coolness of the porcelain against her raw bottom made her shiver, but it was a good kind of shiver.
She closed her eyes and leaned back, letting herself sink into the coolness of the toilet. It was like a warm embrace from an old friend, one who knew exactly what she needed and when she needed it. She could feel the pressure building up inside her, but this time, it wasn't as uncomfortable. She took a deep breath and let out a long sigh of relief as she finally released herself of the pain in her gut.
After what felt like an eternity, Amanda finally felt a little better. She stayed there for a while, just letting the toilet hold her weight and comfort her aching body. She couldn't help but think that maybe, just maybe, she had developed some sort of unhealthy attachment to her toilet. But at that moment, she didn't care. All that mattered was the relief it provided her when she was at her lowest.
Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of her phone ringing. It was her doctor, calling to check in on her and see if she could make it to the hospital for some tests. Amanda had told him about her struggles, and he wanted to make sure she was okay. She nodded her head, promising to go as soon as she was done with her business.
As she got off the toilet, she felt a pang of sorrow - the brief moment of comfort was over, but she would have to face the world again soon. She slowly made her way to the sink and splashed some water on her face, trying to gather the strength to get through the rest of the day. She couldn't help but glance at her reflection in the mirror, wondering if her love for her toilet was too much for anyone else to understand.
Finally, she was ready to face the world again. She walked out of the bathroom, head held high, and made her way to the hospital, the plastic bag still clutched tightly in her hand. As she gave her sample, she couldn't help but feel a sense of pride - after all, her toilet had helped her get this far. And although it might not be something she could ever truly acknowledge aloud, she knew it would always be there for her when she needed it most.
