One time I left work because I had diarrhea. I was literally sitting at work "tight-cheeking" it, before I finally got the nerve to explain to my supervisor what was going on and why I needed to leave.

I have a phobia with public rest rooms and I absolutely refused to use the facilities available to me.

My supervisor gave me the green light to go home, and since I only lived a mile away from my job I was SURE I would make it home on time to take care of this sure to be messy crap.

I made it home fine but when I got up to my door, I could practically feel my body start pushing on it's own. I started to panic. Just like in a movie I dropped the keys and by the time I fumbled the door open, I had my pants down to my ancles and started running for the bathroom.

Right in the kitchen with the light on and blinds open (it was already dark outside) in full view to my high traffic street started shitting right on my kitchen floor. Cars were driving by really slow and honking at me.

I cleaned up the mess, and took a long shower.

To add insult to injury, the next day my neighbor told me that it was interesting that my "new" bathroom was the kitchen floor.