Archive for August, 2014

Poop? Well I never!

August 28th, 2014 by Carrie, the Just Mildly Medicated gal

I always said I’d never write a post about poop. I have read a lot of bloggers that have, but no way not me…

Poop you say?

Well yesterday changed my mind.

Many people with chronic illnesses suffer from constipation. Things like chronic dehydration and frequent pain medication can be contributors. There are illnesses that play a part in constipation, gastroparesis is a partial paralysis of the stomach so things don’t quite get a move on the way that they should.

Now I know many people are on the other side of the poop pendulum but this is my story and we will get to all that moves quickly later… bear with me… oh, the poop puns!

In this story you have to understand that we’re talking about constipation in a way that when my nurse comes and asks me weekly when the last time I went poop was I give her vague answers because I honestly have no idea when the last time was. She now knows this about me and laughs when I say, “Oh, I’m sure it was about 3 days ago.”

So imagine my surprise when I had a strange sensation in my stomach that I did not recognize at first, then I paused and said out-loud, because I was home alone and apparently talk to myself…

southern b

Then my entire abdominal area cramped in a way that made me sorry for all the times I mocked the show ‘Pregnant and Didn’t Know It’ as I was sure I could be about to give birth to something, something evil for sure. Then my entire lower gastrointestinal system said,

“You know how you are not supposed to eat all the stuff you’ve been eating lately because you have gastroparesis…  

Here is your pay back lady!”

My lower gastrointestinal system sounds like a old school TV wrestling announcer too, in case you reading it and need to place the voice. So there I was home alone and crying in the bathroom, in the clutches of an evil wrestling announcer who was causing me so much pain. My insides quivered, contracted, and made noises that made me afraid of my own body.

I was promising all kinds of things, “I’ll stay on broth for two days, no solid food, I swear.” My promises were for nothing. My old school TV wrestling announcer gastrointestinal system was set to punish me for my crimes. I even swore I’d go to church, I figured I would need to anyway to book an exorcism.

Thirty minutes, several empty promises, some sweat and tears, about three pounds, and an additional few minutes of resting on the cold bathroom floor and I was able to leave the room of death and made it to the couch and all I could say was

the vapors