Twisted Sister

As if you don’t hear enough about my bowels and or poop, here is an entire post about just that. You’re welcome.
You see, the last week or so before Tiny Dancer arrived, my schedule was, well, off. I felt as though my intestines were blocked. I believe I referred to them as squished up panty hose in a laundry bag. After she came, things weren’t much better. They give you all sorts of wonderful pain killers after you have a baby. And I’m not one to turn down good drugs. The problem is these drugs also have a lovely side effect of constipation. Which, combined with the fear of pooping after squeezing out a baby, makes for a limited (or non-existent) pooping sitch.
But I digress… After a few days I was starting to get concerned. Nothing was going on down there and my abdomen was bloating and getting very painful. I called my doctor and when the nurse asked me if I was passing gas (oh my god is this story getting embarrassing) I realize that in fact I was not.
Because of the pain and lack of fartiness, we deduced that I either had some sort of blockage or my colon was twisted. The nurse instructed me to give myself an enema. That’s right. An enema. If that didn’t work, she said I needed to go to the ER if the pain continued. Now I don’t know about anyone else but I have never ever (like ever) given myself an enema. I had to go to the store. And buy one. Then when I got home, I had to give myself an enema. The picture on the box tells you to get on all 4’s to do it. I was really on my hands and knees in my bathroom just praying my husband didn’t come to check on me. This was a compromising little position and it was as difficult to administer as you might imagine. Side note: Maybe I should take up yoga again.
The box claimed the enema should work in under 15 minutes. This did not happen. What did happen was unpleasant. I won’t burden your young naive minds with the details.
A few hours later, I felt as though I might have success. I went potty (sounds better that way) and woo hoo! Success indeed. Although immediately following I was in such horrible pain in my abdomen that I could not get off the toilet. I kid you not, I sat there and said to myself, “Self, do not die on the toilet. That is too embarrassing.” I really thought my bowel had torn and according to Dr. Google, torn colons have a 37% mortality rate. I honestly thought I might die on the toilet. It was this fear of embarrassment that got me standing well enough to get out of the bathroom and call for my husband. I was crying at this point and was in so much pain I couldn’t walk, stand or sit. I just stood there hunched over, crying. I told Hubs we needed to get to the ER right away. He carried me to the couch and began gathering things to get going.
Then all the sudden, the pain was completely gone. As in a miracle cure. I feel like my insides finally moved back to their proper place and I haven’t had any problems since.
Weird right? Having a baby is so glamorous.


2 thoughts on “Twisted Sister

  1. Yep, totally picturing you on all fours. i’m so glad you made it through. Nobody should go out Elvis style, least of all you. After I had surgery a few years ago and several days later found myself birthing my own shit for nearly 4 hours I literally was making deals with God and at one point I knew that if I saw a brigh tlight I was running towards it. We are two classy ladies.

  2. Oh God, the image of you on all 4s… Wow. At least your hair still looked gorgeous while you gave yourself an enema. 😉

    I am so glad your bowels seem to have straightened themselves out!

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