I suppose I thought about this because I have an upset stomach.
My grandmother had a shared septic tank. In those days, it was a pit with a brick wall surround and it was in her backyard. Yes, I know. Shudders. Anyhow, the wretched thing would have to be pumped out every so often. Men would arrive and do the necessary. One such occurrence sticks in my mind and I really wish it wouldn’t. A crew arrived around lunchtime and one member of the crew dropped his sandwiches into the tank by accident. He then fished them out and proceeded to eat them. Yes, they were wrapped in waxed brown paper, but EEEEWWWWW.
According to my grandmother, the same team arrived the next week, including the guy with the sandwiches. Apparently, he had survived death by gross infection. That must be a first.