Saturday, August 9, 2014

Poop soul mates

Until this afternoon I was backed up for four horrible goddamn days - my colon that is - due to the hydrocodone for my back. I suffer from IBS - I'm on the diarrhea side of it while Scrub, my sis is on the constipation side. I shit like five times a day and if I don't go for a day then I'm constipated.

***If you've made it this far and feel like I'm oversharing and feel the revulsion rising at this being discussed, well obviously I give zero fucks. You can do yourself a favor, just scroll to the next status. You were warned.***

So back to the subject of my poop chute...I don't feel normal if I don't take a crap on the daily. Dickhead used to get so mad at the amount of time I spend in the bathroom. After more than eleven fucking years you'd think he'd have shut the fuck up about it by now! But recently a GI motility specialist (Little Shit's) explained it to him. So Dickhead gives me less shit about my shit now.

Anyway, until the birth of my 13 inch, weight unknown, turd baby this afternoon I was feeling really fucking awful. But as relief hit me and that fucker slid into the water from my exit hole (would that be considered a water birth?) I messaged my dear friend of You Still Laugh At "Diarrhea". Like the poop soul mates that we are, she was also on the crapper and shared her constipation story with me. It's below.

So there I was after having a baby and I managed to only birth a tiny tiny turd. tiny. Like nothing. I didn't even go poop when I was pushing. But the nurses were satisfied with the tiny tiny turd and all like 'YAY you can go home.'

Well nothing happened when I got home. And I had nothing and nothing but waaaaaaves of pain. And I kept popping percs because of the pain. On day 5 I was sweating bullets TERRIFIED THIS WHOLE TIME OF BUSTING A STITCH because I got the big E (for episotomy) ....and I didn't know the percs would make it worse. Anywho so day 5 I try everything. Chugging metamucil and water and eating prunes and doing an at home enema where NOT A DAMN THING HAPPENED. I called my OB in tears and he told me I can either wait it out at home or I can go to the ER. I went to the ER where I HAD TO GET AN ENEMA. TWICE. And I was STILL BACKED UP. The doctor wanted to go in manually. and dig. So of course I'm like 'this will NOT HAPPEN SIGN ME OUT AMA (against medical advice) IF YOU HAVE TO I'M NOT DOING THAT.' So the doc was like well I understand so they gave me a little to go suppository and told me to come back if I need to.

We go to my parents and pick up the baby and it feels like I need to shit glass this whole entire time, like that whole day and night (it's like 1am at this point and my boobs are leaking ALL OVER THE DAMN PLACE AND EVERYTHING and I'm embarassed and like THIS IS THE WORST THING EVER... ). We get home and baby boy is screaming his head off hungry. I had been having Baby Daddy give him bottles because I was in so much pain. But the urge struck as soon as we walked into the door. I ran. (Cue eye of the tiger music here, I felt like a champ). I hovered over the toilet and the gates of hell opened and my asshole unleashed a fury like never known before. The relief was unlike anything ever and thus the rest of the baby weight was lost.

THE END. *drops mic
I had tears from laughter rolling down my face as I sat in the Cadillac stall of my work restroom reading that shit. I will admit though, my asshole slammed shut at reading the part where they wanted to go in manually and dig. Motherfucker hell NO! But I'm sure my laughter was echoing and could be heard in the goddamn hallway. My laughter is very easily identified so someone walking by would have know immediately it was me. Oh well, ZFG.

I text several of the ladies when I know I'm going to stink it up by dropping a deuce so they can avoid the bathroom for a while. Sometimes I even make a loud announcement on my way in because it kinda grosses the guys out.

There's no shame in my game.

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