
More severe sickness
A greenish-colored stool may result from germs like salmonella, norovirus, or even giardia, a parasite.
They make your stomach empty more quickly than usual, which is the source of the discolouration.
Some people might have undiscovered gall bladder or liver illness.
According to Guts UK, “Bile acid diarrhoea is another condition that can cause green stools because it causes bile to remain in the stools without being reabsorbed, discoloring them.”
“This can occur if you have liver or gall bladder disease, or if you have had bowel surgery or disorders of the small intestine.”
According to Harvard Health Publishing Chief Medical Editor Howard E. LeWine, “Eating dark green vegetables, like spinach and kale, is usually related to intermittent green stool in someone who otherwise feels fine.”The quick exit of green bile from the small intestine during diarrhea is another cause of green stool.
“Medications, including bismuth subsalicylate (Pepto-Bismol), iron supplements, and some antibiotics, may also result in greenish colored stool.”
Your feces’ color might reveal a variety of information.
There’s an unwritten social norm in our culture that prohibits discussing personal hygiene practices in public. However, you should investigate it for the sake of your health, particularly if you see something that seems a little strange.
Yes, we are discussing aiming for a number two. And what that implies if your feces are green in color.
It’s a subject that thousands of people search for answers to on a daily basis, with many going to Google to find out why their excrement is green.
Like a lot of things connected to your health, it might be perfectly safe. On the other hand, it might also indicate something far more dangerous that requires a medical examination.
My poop is green; why?
The most frequent cause of green stool is a significant shift in the type of food and diet that you regularly eat.
Many people report that consuming more green foods has practically caused their color to change.
We’re discussing asparagus, peas, broccoli, kale, and spinach, among other things.
Chlorophyll, if you remember anything from your biology studies in school, is a substance found in these dark green foods that allows plants to produce energy from sunlight.
It goes beyond just veggies.
Green poop can also result from eating other meals with bright colors.
Therefore, don’t panic if you’ve been consuming more blue or purple foods.
Foods that may induce this discoloration include smoothies, ice pops, fizzy drinks, blueberries, and food coloring used in frosting.
Being ill and medication
If you’re taking antibiotics for a medical condition, you may have green stools, according to the UK charity Guts UK.
Moreover, having a gastrointestinal (GI) ailment may contribute to an illness. If you have this kind of infection, you’ll also probably notice that you’re using the restroom more frequently.
One GI condition that might be the source of the discoloration is Crohn’s disease. This results in severe inflammation of the digestive tract, which can produce cramps and diarrhea, as well as blood in your stool.
Green poop is another symptom that people with celiac disease (gluten intolerance) may encounter.
My Friend Kicked Me Out of His Wedding, His Reason Stunned Me

So, I sold it. The buyer, Ben, seemed like a good guy—enthusiastic about fixing up the place. We shook hands, and just like that, the house, along with its memories, was no longer mine.
A week later, I received a letter via courier. To my surprise, it was in my grandfather’s handwriting. The paper was yellowed with age, as if it had been sitting, waiting for the right moment to be delivered. My hands shook as I opened it. The message was simple but intriguing: “Check the basement of the house.”
Without wasting time, I called Ben. “Hey, it’s Alex. I need to come by the house—there’s something I need to check in the basement.”
Ben, a little puzzled but still friendly, replied, “Sure, come over. The basement’s just as you left it.”
When I arrived, I barely recognized the house. Ben had already started making improvements. The yard was cleared, and the house had a fresh coat of paint. He greeted me at the door, and we headed straight to the basement. It was still dimly lit and musty, filled with cobwebs and old furniture. Ben watched me search, amused but curious.
“You sure your grandfather wasn’t just messing with you?” he joked.
I was beginning to wonder the same thing. But then, I noticed a loose brick in the wall. Behind it was a small, dusty box containing old letters and a key. Ben peered over my shoulder. “What do you think that key unlocks?” he asked.
“I’m not sure,” I replied. But I had a feeling it was important. After thanking Ben, I took the box and key home, determined to figure out the mystery.
The next day, I returned to the house with a plan. As Ben opened the door, surprised to see me again, I made a bold offer. “Ben, I’d like to buy the house back.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Really? I thought you said it was a burden.”
Taking a deep breath, I explained. “At first, I thought selling was the right choice. But after receiving my grandfather’s letter, I’ve realized this house means more than I ever thought. It’s not just a building; it’s part of my family’s history, a legacy I need to preserve. I can’t let it go.”
Ben considered for a moment. “Well, I’ve already put in a lot of work. You’d have to offer more than what you sold it for.”
I knew this wouldn’t be easy. “How about five grand more?”
Ben shook his head. “Not enough. The market’s good, and I could sell it for a profit. How about twenty grand more?”
My heart sank. Twenty grand was a lot. But I couldn’t lose the house now. “Deal,” I said, though it hurt to agree.
Over the next week, I finalized the paperwork to buy the house back. During this time, I met Clara, a local historian with a passion for old homes. Over coffee, I shared the story of my grandfather’s house, and she was instantly intrigued.
“Your grandfather sounds incredible,” Clara said. “If you ever need help restoring the house or researching its history, I’d love to assist.”
I gratefully accepted her offer. Clara’s enthusiasm breathed new life into my project. Together, we spent hours sifting through old documents, photos, and memories, piecing together the story of the house and its significance.
Finally, with the house back in my name, I returned to the basement, key in hand. Moving aside an old wardrobe, I discovered a hidden door. The key fit perfectly. Behind the door was a small room, and in the center was a modest chest. My heart raced as I opened it, expecting treasure.
Instead, I found a letter in my grandfather’s familiar handwriting and an old poker chip.
The letter read: “I knew you would sell the house, you fool! I always taught you to honor your ancestors and remember your roots. Yet, you sold it off without a second thought. Let this be a lesson to you.”
At the bottom, in a playful tone, it said: “P.S. I put something in here, so here’s an old poker chip—worthless! Consider it a lucky charm.”
I sat there, the letter in hand, disappointed at first, but then understanding hit me. My grandfather, ever the trickster, had orchestrated this whole experience to teach me a valuable lesson. The house wasn’t just about property or money—it was about honoring the past and valuing what truly matters.
With a renewed sense of purpose, I decided to keep the house and turn it into a family retreat. What I once saw as a burden now felt like a treasure—a connection to my roots and a place where future memories would be made.
Over the months that followed, the house underwent a transformation. With Clara’s help, I restored it, blending its old charm with fresh beginnings. The house, once dilapidated, became a place of laughter and love—a symbol of family heritage.
As the final touches were added, Clara and I grew closer, spending more and more time together. The house wasn’t just a part of my past anymore—it had become a symbol of our future, a place filled with love, memories, and the lessons my grandfather had so cleverly imparted.
In the end, my grandfather had left me far more than a house. He’d left me a legacy, a lesson about family, roots, and the importance of holding on to the things that truly matter.
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