So if you are easily offended or grossed out by bathroom humour, now is the time to skip to the next blog. I promise, my next post will be all flowery and full of daisies.
But in the meantime, all ladies and gentlemen, are warned to avert their eyes.
On to my story:
If you are familiar with me at this point, you know that I am a chronic pain sufferer. I tend to shy away from pain medication until there comes a point when the pain is making me so outwardly miserable to all those around me, that I just have to give in and take something. Such was the case for the last week and half.
So with a click of my magic fingers, I blinked up my delightful cocktail of pain meds and happily went on my way much to the pleasure of all those around me.
The unfortunate part of pain meds is that after a few days they back up my old garbage disposal, if you get my drift. You know what I mean right? My engine gets a blockage, my cat gets a fur ball, there's a rat stuck in the wall... No? You still don't know what I mean? Oh for gawd sakes, I get constipated people!!!!
And constipated good, I must say. This time it had been three days, three long days of torturous agony, until I took it upon myself to drastically force a flushing of my radiator.
It all started like this. I finally could no longer take one more moment of the pain in my lower back or the bloating in my ever increasing stomach. Not too mention the constant pressure on my poor tookis. So with toilet paper in hand, and a determination in my gait, I finally, on the third day, decided to get the deed done and reward myself with a warm bubble bath to soak my soon to be released from agony nether regions. So with the bathwater running, I decided to disrobe, and plant my naked body on the toilet to give an old heave ho to my ill suffering bowels, and from there jump into my bath and soak my sore patooty.
While idly sitting, for what felt like an eternity on the toilet, and bursting several blood vessels on my face, a few odd and disturbing things popped into my mind, like:
What if it didn't come out before the water in the bathtub started to overflow and my better half came into the bathroom to see why there was an indoor flood happening only to find me in all my naked glory sitting there grimacing and grunting on the toilet with two inches of water around my ankle yelling "we're almost there baby, almost there!!"
What if, gawd forbid, I pushed too hard and gave myself an aneurysm, fell off the toilet and my better half found me naked, lying butt up in the air, dead to the world, with half a poop sticking out. Good gawd, how on earth would he explain that to the family!!!
And if that wasn't bad enough, I spent an inordinate amount of time fantasizing about taking a pair barbecue tongs and pulling and tugging until I set my bowels frees. Of course, when I merely mentioned my fantasy to my better half, he raced into the kitchen at full speed, and lets put it this way, I haven't seen those tongs in two full days. Like I'm really going to use them. Okay, maybe it is good thing I can't find them.
In any event, I am happy to report that I did survive the bowel gate scandal of 2011 and that I burst out into glorious song the moment it happened!
The fact that I am now sitting on a pillow and a heating pad, is nobody's business but mine, and well, maybe yours too, and anyone else who has the courage to ask! Because, damn it, I am not ashamed! Okay, maybe I am blushing a bit in the cheeks, well, the cheeks I am sitting on that is!
Until Next Time.