[Cancer]
[cancer] In which new lows are reached in the New Unpleasantness
The last few days have been severely marked by a New Unpleasantness which is a direct upshot of the Late Unpleasantness. Last night I discovered that I cannot in fact find my ass with both hands in the dark, in the process of reaching a new low in GI health which is disgusting even by my notoriously loose standards. All of this in the process of achieving very little sleep, less than four hours for the whole night.
Under cut for medical and digestive TMI. This is disgusting. I’m not kidding.
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You have been warned. Sure you want to keep reading?
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Last chance to go do something constructive.
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Ok, here goes.
I’ve been suffering from pretty horrible constipation as a result of the Imodium I had to take to deal with the nine day bout of out of control diarrhea in the days leading up to Christmas. Imodium always affects me drastically, which is why I hate to take it, but I wound up using Imodium in dosages rather in excess of the label at my doctor’s direct orders.
Well, it finally stopped the diarrhea, though that took days. Then I had a little but of bowel activity. Now, for the past four or five days, nothing. My classic Imodium reaction of a concrete enema.
In the last day or two, I have shit out several small pieces of concrete. Stool so thick and heavy I can hear it hit the bottom of the toilet bowl. I’m talking impacted colon territory.
That’s not the disgusting part. I mean it is, but this isn’t exactly new territory for me. Hell, I was once hospitalized for constipation. Trust me, that is an experience no one wants to undergo.
No, the disgusting part is that last night I discovered that yes, it is in fact humanly possible to experience both constipation and diarrhea at the same fucking time. I would have bet good money against this possibility.
Basically, starting late yesterday evening, every time I sat down to, as the doctors say, strain at stool, it would start with a rush of fluid. I presume this is a problem somewhere behind the current concrete enema, and it’s slowly leaking past the blockage. So what I wound up with last night was the frequent need to go, due to pressure from the liquid arriving at the exit point, combined with the pressure and pain of stool so dense and dry you could use it for building material.
Jesus fucking Christ on a propane powered unicycle. Talk about getting it from both ends. Well, just the one end, but you know what I mean.
As a special bonus, I also ran through a whole pack of Dulcolax suppositories. In the magical process of using one late at night, with KY gel to assist, I discovered that I cannot in fact find my ass with both hands in the dark.
Good thing my dignity was shredded years ago by cancer and its discontents, because last night left psychic scars as it is. Meanwhile, the New Unpleasantness continues unabated.
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Posted: 6:25 am Wed January 02 2013 |
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Thanks for the warnings.
My ears are still bleeding. But my heart goes out to you.
Hugs. I hope today is better.
Sorry to hear. Sounds painful. Take care.
Blessings and wishes for a less unpleasant day, Jay. Many unpleasant days.
I’m sure I’ve never experienced anything on the scale you’re suffering (days of constipation? Holy shit, I thought 36 hours was bad), but I have known the joy of squirting around a severe blockage. You have all the sympathy in the world from me, buddy.
FYI, my personal best for constipation was 9 days. That’s what landed me in the hospital. (It was post-operative complication.) You could smell faeces on my breath by then. It’s a wonder I didn’t croak of an infection.
Oh god, Jay. My sympathy. I hope today is a better day.
Jay, your post reminded me of the time my infant son was constipated (on breastmilk, which the pundits would have you believe doesn’t ever cause that). Here’s my TMI: while he was on his back on the changing table, I was giving him a glycerin suppository, which suddenly uncorked him, causing pent-up liquid stool to shoot three feet in all directions. On the walls, even. Note also that you cannot give a glycerin suppository to an infant while standing outside the three-foot radius.
Ok, you made me laugh.
So sorry to hear this, Jay. You are in my thoughts.
My childhood was marked my some similar chronic circumstances. It might explain a lot about me, but I’m sorry it has affected you so. May it better for you today and let you get some rest.
I know the same process on a smaller scale with Rachel Sinclair Hunt and her chemo. You have every healing ray I can spare that isn’t aimed at her.
Jay, I really fervently hope this stuation improves for you soon. Like, now.
My warm fuzzies wear rubber gloves and anti-c suits. I can handle your unpleasantness. Hang in there.
That’s really not disgusting. But then, I say that having spent waaaay too much time as a caregiver in hospitals in the 1970s and 1980s.
And as someone who had to not only read the written declarations, but depose under oath, certain bank executives regarding their lending practices and the proxies that they used (and abused) for repayment risk in the 1990s. Now that‘s disgusting.
Hang in there, Jay! It WILL end.
OK, I apologize for the fact that your discomfort provided me with laughter.
Well, not your discomfort, but the words and phrasing you used to describe it.
I even shared parts with the woman who manages our Answer Line! (Which you should be calling, btw, if you have any questions about your medications, side effects, etc. 1-877-427-2111.)
Seriously, I hope you get permanent relief soon. Cancer fucking sucks.
No worries about laughing. I frame it funny because otherwise I’d just sob, and what good would that do me?