Damn, thought Charlie.
Three dives, each with the same disastrous results. If this kept up, he would start attracting sharks.
Getting his certification was turning out to be a horror show instead of the walk... err, swim in the park he’d expected it to be. His instructor was patient, but Charlie suspected that that patience would be wearing thin in a big hurry. Understandable, too: The pool cleanup bills were mounting.
A visit to the gastrointerogist confirmed his worst fears. The painful explosive diarrhea he suffered every time he strapped on his tank and mask was due to scuba diverticulitis.