When I had campylobacter, I was walking to the bathroom to empty the bowl of vomit I had produced over the previous hour when, with absolutely no warning, I projectile vomited with such force that it went from the doorway to the far wall, all over the bog cistern, towels on towel rail, and some of it even ended up in the bath.
After some more violent barfing and an hour or so of lying down, I started to feel a little better and was on my hands and knees trying to clear it up (it had even gone down the walls, ffs). A tiny fart emitted from my arse, followed, most unexpectedly, by what looked like at least a gallon of vile-smelling diarrhoea.
I was dry-heaving from the smell, and the lower half of my body was covered in it. I cried and cried.
I didn't know what to do first, get in the shower or try and clear up the floor. It was beyond vile, and I had to throw away the nicest dressing gown I have ever owned. I swear it took me a week longer to recover because I was so knackered afterwards.
When the then DH came home and I told him about it, he found it hilarious. I think that was when I decided to LTB.