My sister is something of a spontaneous vomiter. She has no fear of vomit, and will do so whenever the occasion allows. One night in college she dropped by my room after having dinner with her boyfriend. She knelt down to pick something up and blurrrrrrch, she puked on my floor. It wasn’t a lot of vomit, just a modest puddle. But it was full of chunks. Steak, to be precise. My sister began to inspect the vomit, pawing through it with her bare hands and picking up chunks. When she brought one up to her mouth I lost it and screamed.
Well, I was going to share the story of the time I found a dead cockroach in my pantyhose while I was wearing them but after the Olympic lamb-guts ribbon dancing, I think I’ll just sit over here and watch.
I knew when I saw Farmwoman’s username, she was going to have a good one. You just can’t beat what critters will come up with, when it comes to being disgusting.
Not as gross as some people’s stories, but still pretty nasty when it happened-
The tutoring center I work at has only ONE unisex bathroom. This presents problems when the bathroom malfunctions, and is also a chore to clean because being at a tutoring center the bathroom gets used by lots and lots of little kids over the course of the day.
One day I was working with a kid who was quite pale and looked ill. It looked like he was hiccuping, and I asked if he was alright. He told me he felt like he was about to throw up, so I said, “Ok, break time, go ahead and get in the bathroom NOW, and try to aim for the toilet!”
He scooted off, and came back a few minutes later. The front of his shirt was coated in vomit, and he sheepishly told me, “I, uh, kind of missed.” I told him, “dont worry about it, I’ll deal wtih it. Call your dad to come get you, I dont see any reason you should have to stay for the full hour when you are ill”. He thanked me and I headed to the bathroom to assess the damage.
:eek:
When he said he ‘missed’, he was making a massive understatement. Practically every surface of that bathroom was splattered with vomit. And it was red vomit, my guess being he drank a one big gulp too many of slurpees. The stench was horrible, I almost collapsed from the smell. Now, it wasn’t my turn to clean the bathroom that day, but being that I was the first employee to see this disaster, and the fact that nobody could use the bathroom in that condition, I ran into the office, told my boss what happened and cleaned it up as best I could. It was the first time in my life I was using a mop to clean vomit off a wall :eek: and the whole process took 45 minutes, largely because of the immense quantity of vomit present. When I was done, though, I am proud to say that someone going in the bathroom would have never known what kind of toxic spill had recently occurred, save for a pink tinge her and there.
When I went home I had to scrub myself very thoruoghly and run my clothes through the wash several times. Maybe it was just my own perception, but it took a while to get the smell of vomit off my body/ clothes 
Being a guy who thinks gross stuff is funny, I figure that I’d be the best person to handle cleaning up the mess. The rest of the staff was very grateful for sparing them something that would have definitely caused them to toss their cookies. 
Not in the ballparks of other stories, but I’ll share two.
- My father and I were sitting on his backyard patio on a balmy summer night, enjoying a nightcap. We were chatting pleasantly, and then the wind shifted slightly. We began to smell a … less than pleasant odor. But it was dark out, and we couldn’t see anything. “Hmm,” I say. “One of the dogs must have taken a nasty dump right near by. Let’s go inside.”
Next morning, we walked outside and found a rotting, maggoty possum corpse out in the yard. Blecch. Steeling myself against vomiting, I scooped it up with a shovel and double bagged it. And threw it in the trash can out front.
Unfortunately, trash day was about four days away. After a day or two the smell from the possum had intensified so greatly that we could smell it from the house every time the front door was opened. Dad says “I can’t take this - let’s get it out of the trash can and go throw it in a dumpster somewhere.” “No way in hell,” I said. “I’d rather bear it for two more days than get near that thing again.” But he was insistent. So I made him a deal: I would drive the car to a dumpster, but he would have to get the possum from the trash, and hold the bag outside the car while we drove.
Even with all the windows down, the stench was unbearable. My dad wore gloves, and it still took him three days to get the stink off his hands.
- About 2am, my college roommate gets dropped off at our door, drunk out of his gourd. I was tired and wanted to go to bed, but I gave him a little water and watched him for about 20-30 minutes to make sure he was all right. I figured all was well, and put him to bed in the upper bunk. I brushed my teeth, got undressed, turned out the lights, and was just nodding off when
BLURFGHRHGH
Roomie had just chunked up the entire contents of his stomach all over his bed. There was an enormous bright orange pool of half-digested beans and rice soaked in alcohol, dripping down the bed and onto mine. (Why, oh why, did it have to be Mexican food night at the dorm that evening?)
I cleaned him off and put him to bed on the couch, took the vomit soaked sheets straight down to the washer, febreezed the shit out of the mattress, and then went to bed on our suitemates’ couch because our room was still rife with the smell of alcohol and vomit.
A dead goose? UGH!! Eve, I took “bullhead baseball” to mean guys smashing a live or dead cow’s head with baseball bats.
Ah, I love disgusting stories!
Someone once posted a link to a nursing message board on another board I visit. Only a few posts on this thread approach the level of grossness of an average post on the nurses’ board. So in a sense that is the grossest thing I ever saw.
Sorry, I don’t have the link anymore. Hate to be a tease to the grossophiles 
On a more personal note, although I didn’t actually see this myself, it is a true friend of a friend story. 3 college guys went home for the summer and turned off the power at their New Orleans apartment to save money. It was only upon their return that they remembered the freezer full of meat. They had to clean it out, and by that time it was mostly maggots.
As a coastal kid familiar with the local sea fauna, I’m assuming bullhead in this case refers to the small-to-medium-sized fish more accurately called sculpin. I’ve never done it myself, but I can assume that tossing one up and taking a swipe at it with a piece of lumber would constitute high entertainment for a bloody-minded preadolescent.
If I never see another big gaping infected crater in somebody’s flesh, that’ll be just fine. My mom had surgery to remove a hernia. The inscission <sp?> refused to heal because of diabetes. She wasn’t taking care of it, it got infected and when they removed the infection, there was a half dollar sized hole in her belly. My mom had a BIG belly, and the hole went down several inches. She couldn’t dress the wound because she couldn’t really see it. So, I had to stuff the belly tunnel with iodine soaked guaze twice a day. I had to use the handle of a wooden spoon wrapped in guaze to poke it all the way down.
One of the things that makes this story so good when you actually know me, is that I never told anyone until months later. Remember, I had a baby the next day and naturally this anecdote got bumped from the line-up, so by the time we started sharing the gruesome story with friends and family, it had already become funny as hell.
Note to self: You’ve had better ideas than to read this thread while eating a big plate of pulled pork.
Nothing I’ve experienced compares to any of this, but a couple of pretty gross things.
A few years back I was a Guide Leader (Girl Scouts to you Americans) and one of our girls was feeling ill so off we went to the bathroom… where she promptly threw up all over the bathroom floor (This puddle was about a yard long and a couple feet wide) of her vegetable soup.
I get her to rinse out her mouth while I go to get the head leader saying that the girl got sick, and we had to call the janitor (we met in the gym of a school). Later that leader told me she thought it couldn’t have been that bad because I was so calm. I wasn’t calm, I was just trying to keep from being sick myself!
Summer camp, two words: Trout volleyball.
Yes, we played a game of volleyball in the middle of one of the warmest summers I can recall using a TROUT… actually a couple of them. They don’t last long.
The Day I Became A Puke Sandwich
About nine years ago I was watching my nephews - one five years old and the other nine months old. Both were fighting off a stomach bug.
The five year old is napping as I give the baby his bottle. When I put the baby up to my shoulder, he vomits down my back and in my hair. The retching noises wake up the five year old.
“Yaya, I don’t feel good” says the eldest and I can tell by the look on his face he’s brewing a vomit comet. While holding the baby, I scoop him up and RUN into the bathroom. “There you go, in the toilet” I say, “you’ll feel better when it’s out.”
He looks at me with his big brown eyes and pukes on me. I was wearing a v-neck shirt so I had vomit down the inside of the shirt as well as inside my bra.
And that’s when I became the Vomit Sandwich. The five year old is now a fourteen year old who knows, someday, Auntie will tell his girlfriend this story.
My girlfriend wants to get married and have children. I kinda-sorta agree.
Then I read a thread about disgusting stuff, and nine out of ten entries involve baby puke (and/or other baby stuff).
I’m starting to have second thoughts.
When I was a kid, I stomped on a tomato worm so hard that its green innards spewed out and right onto my aunt’s dress.
Hmmm…This little anecdote really pales in comparison to most that I’ve read here.
I had just started at an Internal Medicine office. One day this older lady came in with the most horrendous case of Herpes Simplex any of us had ever seen…
most of her face was a mass of black scabby sores. Her eyes and mouth were filled with stringy green mucous, and she kept opening and closing her mouth but couldn’t speak. We had to call 911.
When I think of this image, I just picture her mouth opening and closing, opening and closing, with those green strings from top lip to bottom lip. Ew… <shudder>
Hmm … a challenge.
I too, have picked maggots out of animal wounds. I cannot stand maggots, especially combined with the rotten flesh smell (maggoty flesh has a special smell), but as the veteran vet. tech. I am expected to handle it while the newbies run away. So I do. I remember seeing a goat that had been dehorned and the wounds got infested with maggots. There were at least 3 species of maggots in there, fat ones, skinny ones, tiny ones. And I had to pick them out with a tweezer and the goat did not want to hold still. It took a couple hours.
Then there was the cat that I was doing a demaggoting on, it also had a couple different sized maggots on it. I had it on a drainage rack over the tub and was leaning over the tub, this also took about an hour. One thing I make sure of, if I must clean the disgusting things out of a wound then it is going to be as clean as possible when I am done. Anyway, finally get done, cat is recovering and I finish out my shift. As I was getting ready to leave my nose started to run, a common occurance for me and my many allergies so I keep a kleenex in my pocket. I pulled the tissue out of my pocket and when it’s about an inch from my nose I notice the fat wriggling maggot in the tissue. It had fallen into my pocket at some point while treating the cat. Everytime I think of how long I had that thing in my pocket and how close I came to rubbing it into my nose I get the willies.
I could go on but I think I will close with one of the grossest events in my career.
A little old lady came in with her poodle that was having puppies, she brought the dog in in a dog bed so she didn’t see what was going on in the back end. It had one stuck halfway out. While we get her in the exam room and lift of the dog to see … half a puppy, the bottom half remained in the mother dog and some intestines were hanging out of the puppy. The dog had tried to help herself and in the process ate half her puppy. Well, the owner hears this and has to sit down feelings very queasy and light-headed. We x-ray the dog, see no more puppies and manage to pull out the remainder of the puppy. We finish up, tell the lady she can go now and as she’s waiting at the front desk to pay the dog pukes up the other half of the puppy. I knew the lady would lose it if she saw half a puppy so I scooped up the freshly vomited half puppy in my bare hands and quickly ran into the back of the clinic to dispose of it. Retching the whole way.
Oh yeah, another thing I’ve come across lately in my new job at a derm office:
Una boots. This is when someone has cellulitis (infection of the skin), sometimes with oozing open sores. You wrap their limb or whatever with ointment and calamine lotion-infused bandages, and they wear them for a week or so until their next appointment. They’re not supposed to get them wet but sometimes they do.
Yesterday it was a rather large man, with both legs wrapped. I roomed him, and for the first minute or so being in the room with him was no problem. After that first minute though, the smell of rotting flesh filled the room and I had to almost RUN out, all the while trying to be very casual about it. I gagged and gagged when I got out, and came very close to vomiting.
I don’t know what would happen if I was elected to actually CHANGE the dressings. I think I might just die right then and there.
I, too, have lost continence and had to leave my t-shirt in a church parking lot at 4am in New York…but that’s more embarrasing than gross…for gross, I submit this.