Jay, well first off all, bless you for being so brave. My own symptoms can be harsh, but at least I have the option of not becoming incontinent if Iï¿½m willing to pay the price.I used to love performing on stage or being the host for the evening, introducing all the artists which to me is a sacred thing to to. Unfortunately, what I have to go through to pull it off makes stage fright seem like a warm and fuzzy feeling by comparison.I experience a variety of ibs symptoms throughout the day but every evening, regardless of what I do or don't eat, I become painfully bloated. And then I start to continuously, you know, pass gas. Sometimes itï¿½s reeeeaally pungent. And sometimes itï¿½s not just gas, itï¿½s mucus, or even worse brown liquid. But I never know in advance. Well, you can imagine how terrified I am of this happening on stage. Or even when Iï¿½m just hanging out in the audience waiting to go on. So I donï¿½t let it happen. Iï¿½ve got muscle control like you wouldnï¿½t believe. But the price for not letting it go is severe abdominal pain, nausea, and then frantic, painful spasms that, once triggered, go on for 12 to 24 hours even after Iï¿½ve relieved myself, often triggering other symptoms along the way. Yet all the while, Iï¿½m on stage yapping away. And the weird thing is, the worse I feel the better I get. Itï¿½s like performing becomes an anesthesia. Well my most embarrassing moment could definitely be called ibs related. One night last year I was hosting for the evening. And it was a bad night. I kept running to the bathroom to practice PI (preventative incontinence). I was wearing my usual outfit, a funky shirt and home made pants. Well, one of my other ibs symptoms is that I canï¿½t even take the slightest pressure on my abdomen. Even a loosely fitting pair of jeans or leggings will trigger severe cramps and spasms, so I make all my own pants. And mighty fine pants they are too, Indian style but with a drawstring cord instead of an elastic waistband. I call them PMS pants because they fit you 30 days a month.Anyway, the last act of the evening was just finishing up, and I was in the bathroom doing the same. And I realized I needed to hustle if I wanted to get back on stage in time for his Outro and to close up the evening. Well, I made it. But just as my feet hit the stage I became aware of a totally new sensation; my pants sliding south down my hips. Iï¿½d forgotten to tie the drawstring knot! And at that moment I realized that my true enemy wasnï¿½t ibs; it was gravity.And in the next moment I discovered that I had muscles Iï¿½d never dreamed of. Somehow I managed to prance around the stage saying complimentary things about all the acts while maintaining muscle control on all my internal organs and simultaneously gyrating my pelvis in such a manner as to create a kind of anti-gravity hula hoop field around my pants. And then it was, ï¿½Thank you all for coming, and good night!ï¿½, and then I bunny hopped across the club and made it to the bathroom just in time.And it occurred to me that if our lives are actually a situation comedy for the gods, they certainly got their moneyï¿½s worth on this episode.