Blurgh, tell me the Disgusting Things You Must Do

…that result in a multihew revolt against the use of opposable thumbs,

Cleaning a Hair Clog out of the bathtub drain makes me :face_vomiting:

Wiping smears of eye snot off a spaniel’s nose seems revolting, unless you’ve experienced cutting into a mucin-filled ovary the size of a basketball.

It’s almost not fair when the pathologists come out to play in a “Disgusting experiences” thread. But it does make for some over-the-top stories, so it’s all good! :slight_smile:

@Jackmannii wins the thread on post #2.

I’ve DIY cleaned plenty of vile drains, and dealt with some messy (by layman’s standards) wounds and surgical drains. By total lifetime volume of ick those are probably the winners.

I once had to dispose of a well-decomposed carcass of a medium sized dog. It was on a concrete patio under a raised wooden deck, so we couldn’t just dig a hole adjacent and roll it in. It stank pretty good and between the flies and maggots it was pretty disgusting to look at.

I carefully slid a shovel under the midsection intending to lift it. When I started to lift, the torso split in two and out spilled a whole new level of horror. That was probably the max ick factor moment of my life. Somehow I just hadn’t expected that to happen. In hindsight it was pretty obvious I should have expected that. Live and learn.

I’ve been out of the military long enough I’m not real interested in rehashing some of those memorable moments.

Thanks, LSLGuy, for scripting tonight’s nightmare.

Jesus. I came here to complain about eating floor food from my toddler’s yogurt smeared hands.

I think I’m gonna leave now.

Back in the day when I did what my screen name indicates, one of my tasks was to empty the paint trap. Basically like a grease trap, but for paint, a box with baffles that let particulates drop out. About every 6 months I’d have to open up this box from hell of slowly decaying paint (back then we frequently still used casein based, read milk based, paints) and scoop out of of the “solids” take the screens out, scrape them off, wash everything, then put it back together. The gunk I pulled out was mixed with sawdust to render it into a safe to dispose of rock. Nobody wanted to go anywhere near the dumpster after I did that. The stench was amazing.

I’d always ask the rest of the shop if they wanted me to do it before or after lunch.

Scoop the litter boxes.

Clean my wife’s decomposing hair+ soap + ecch out of her bathroom’s drains.

I should get some credit for not recapitulating the Affair of the Exploding Breast.

I saw what you did there.

Pets are pretty disgusting huh?

My dog eats a lot of grass and sometimes she gets a whole piece of grass coming out with her poop but it doesn’t exit completely and I have to grab a wipe and extract the poop from her butthole. This is an excellent reason to get a short-haired dog (although the negative part of that is seeing dog butthole on a regular basis).

I’ve not had the pleasure of having to dispose of old rotted carcasses like @LSLGuy thank goodness. But I make sure I fling critters over the fence as soon as they’re dead and that happens more often than I’d like. More sad than gross but always gross.

If you’re accepting a single incident, well –

Forty years ago, I was delivering furniture and bedding. We took a mattress, box springs, headboard, footboard and rails to this residence. The guy that answered the door was average looking – mid 50s, thin. We brought the first piece up to the door and the stench was palpable. The guy’s wife was at least 600 lbs., sitting across two dining-room chairs, a walker for each arm. She was making this horrible croaking sound as she breathed. The entire house smelled of excrement; it was a miasma. Grab-a-deep-breath-before-you-go-in-and-hold-it-as-long-as-you-can foul. The floors all had dark brown tracks, as well as the rugs. We were in-and-out fast with extra long pauses at the truck. Back at the store, we relayed all this to the boss who promptly chewed us out for leaving the merchandise there. Some days, you just can’t win.

I don’t do it anymore but at my old job I occasionally had to do biohazard cleanup at places where people had died or been killed.

One involved a woman who passed away in her home undetected and it wasn’t until her rent fell behind and the landlord checked on her that her death was noticed.

I remember walking up the steps to the front door past the living room window. The space between the glass and the screen had apparently filled with flies. I didn’t notice until I walked past and my movement disturbed them, causing a stream of flies to spill out of a hole in the screen. It was impossible to step anywhere in the home without crushing dead insects. The recliner where she had died was caved in where her body had been, almost giving it the appearance that its occupant had spontaneously combusted. A ringed pile of dead insects and maggot casings had accumulated around it.

It was a cheap single-wide mobile home and after reviewing our cleaning estimate the insurance company determined it was less expensive to cash the landlord out then spend the time and energy cleaning this place. I was grateful for that decision.


And it doesn’t ‘sit’ well with the dog when it happens (ie, before I step in to help), so there’s the added entertainment (for the neighbors) of me chasing the dog around the yard trying to basically pull that copper wire out of its insulation.

I’ve often wondered if I could make the whole thing musical … maybe get a band together. There is a ‘stringed instrument’ element to it, I think.

The Grass In The Ass Quartet … or something like that.

FWIW, the dog is nonplussed about the whole thing, too.

I narrowly avoided one of those. Not that I’d have had the cleaning duty as you almost did.

I was the president of my condo building. I’m a very hands-on prez, know everybody and their kids, am involved in lots of folks lives and events. Except the elderly shut-in in unit 123 (not really). She’s lived there forever, rarely comes out, but is pleasant if shy when she does. We have no idea who her next of kin is and she’s not willing to share that with us.

Fast forward 3-4 years and unbeknownst to us she’s become senile, infirm, and the place has turned into a hoarder’s paradise AKA roach-infested hell-hole.

One day somebody calls me from out of town, claiming to be the old woman’s niece, her nearest kin, and that she’s worried since she talks to the old lady every week but hasn’t for two weeks.

I go through our process for an emergency entrance to an apartment without owner consent, get my witness, have the niece on the mobile phone on my headset and prepare to open the door expecting to find a mess and a corpse.

Instead I find a hoarder’s explosion, incredible stench, roaches everywhere, piles of food-encrusted garbage to waist height in the kitchen, and a 90+ yo naked woman “dashing” among the piles in a panic as best she can using a walker. I finally corner her, hand her my phone so she can talk to her niece. Who she almost recognizes kinda.

They put her in a memory care home where she lasted another 6 months before dying with no idea what her own name was. They spent a bunch of money hoeing out the hazmat, disinfecting, de-lousing, and installing a complete new interior in the apartment.

Betty, you were a sweet woman. It’ a darn shame you chose to live your last couple years that way by refusing help while you were still able to accept it. You didn’t deserve your end; nobody does.

Please folks; make plans for when you’re infirm and put them into effect before you’re infirm enough to need them, much less before you’re too infirm to be able to implement them.

I bet you’ve never been able to eat dog since then.

True. Long pig on the other hand … :wink:

Well, not being real familiar with internal organ anatomy, jackmanni’s example, while sounding gross, doesn’t have the impact LSLGuy’s does. While LSL has the best as yet, I’ve at least encountered a less than fresh dead animal even though I didn’t have to mess with it, the emotional impact of the hair clog is still stronger for me right now as I had to clear one just about 15 or 20 minutes before starting this thread(had to finish the technicolor hue and cry of intestinal protest first)

Gotta say, I’m GLAD LSLGuy’s story doesn’t have the impact it could have

Never had to deal with grass in a dog butt

That reminded me of Clooney:

IANA medical person, but wiki sez a healthy human ovary is a bit bigger than one knuckle of a man’s thumb. So on the same scale as a male testicle.

One swollen to basketball size and full of something pressurized just might make a pretty impressive splurt when sliced open. Impressive as in “Wow, I knew I should’ve turned off the ceiling fan first, just in case. Lookit that mess everywhere!”

Removing hair from a drain made you hurl?/? For realsies? Wow. Some folks have delicate sensibilities fit for royalty. Would that I was so … refined. :wink:

I was cutting some very long grass in a field once, with a lawn-mower attached to the three-point hitch on the back of a tractor. The grass was at least two-feet high, and I really couldn’t see much as I was cutting. I figured it was just a field, so there wasn’t much to see.

Until I looked down and noticed that I was driving over a dead deer carcass. I didn’t get the tractor stopped, but I did have the presence of mind to raise the mower deck. After consultation with the landowner, we got some gloves, lifted the deer onto the mower, and hauled it to some trees at the edge of the field whence it could return to the Earth.

@LSLGuy may be leading this thread, but if I’d left that mower deck down I think I’d be in the running.

You must be real popular with the neighbors