Sunday, 15 July 2012
Pain makes you constipated. Who knew? Probably lots of people out there had already made the connection between medication and your inability to , how shall I put it, have a movement. This week I have had a lot of drugs. Not in your hippie 'good shit' style, but purely to get pain to manageable levels. At this fine london hospital there is a team who deal with pain, seriously there is. No they're not dressed in S&M gear , more about them another time. Anyway the pain team told me added pressure in my nether region wasn't ideal combined with existing head pressure. It was clear that we needed to take action and come up with a cunning plan to restore normal deliveries. Learned and slightly abrupt doctor prescribed laxatives. Yuk! Much esteemed and seriously wise mother brought a bottle of syrup of figs. Hmm not bad! Beautiful and caring friend brought pineapple and cherries. Very tasty. With no hesitation I commenced the assault. With days I was delivering ice age poos. I use this description as they resemble fossilised berries. I knew that this was not enough and redoubled efforts...at this point the cunning plan became flawed, maybe I over did it. Due to compulsory bed rest I was using the commode and soon came the day when I knew the commode was required for more a bulkier delivery. Well my combo of all three 'mover and shakers' worked and suffice to say I produce a Jurassic size poo, not once, not twice but three times. Success is sweet and I rebelled as the pressure one end was relieved sand not a little smug. There was a sting in the tail, whilst getting to standing after getting this load off my mind I omitted to notice the nurse had put down the footrest. Suffice to say that I for one brief moment wore the Jurassic poo like a Victorian bustle before it cascaded onto the floor under my bed and that of my unsuspecting bed neighbours. Ah well, normal service resumed in time for olympics , jolly good.