I was at work and needed to poo. I NEVER poo at work, but I'd had lamb curry the night before and my stomach was having none of that. So I went, and it was.....very pungent to say the least.

Just as I was finishing up that viscous ordeal, a co-worker came running into the bathroom and proceeded to start puking in the stall next to me. I walked out, washed my hands, the odour of my deposit was still very bad, and I was hoping to make a quick exit before she saw that it was me who had stunk out the bathroom . But she was moaning in between heaving, and my 'take care of a sick girl in a bathroom' like you would do at a bar or club reflexes kicked in, so I went and asked if she was okay, then held her hair back as she vomited some more.

Shortly after, she felt okay and got back off the floor, went to the basin and splashed her face with water. 'Thank you' she said, all the while, this horrendous smell of my poo is just everywhere. 'I'm not pregnant' is the second thing she says to me. Which is fair, she's a girl who randomly threw up at 10am, so doesn't want me going back to office and saying anything.

She then keeps talking to me in the bathroom, at this point I've figured that her nose is all blocked up from the puking so she can't smell what I smell, because even though it was my brand - my eyes were nearly watering - the stench was so you could taste it at the back of your throat. She told me why she was sick, I didn't listen, cos I was trying to get out of the bathroom, trying to get her out of the bathroom before her nose unblocked, basically get us away from it all.

Turned out she was telling me that she had cancer, and was just starting chemo. She hadn't told anyone else in the company other than senior management. And I'm all 'please leave' cos my stomach is grumbling again and I'm about to shit out a Buick.