My Broken Bum

When you have breast cancer, mastectomy, chemotherapy ‘we refer to chem as spa therapy for any new readers), ancillary clearances and so forth, you get given a lot of information about all of the possible side effects which I call ‘feelings’ and they really leave nothing out. The lists have all sorts of weird and wonderful feelings that ‘may’ happen like hair loss (yup, got it), mouth ulcers (nope, skipped that one), loss of appetite (have you seen the size of me? Nope missed that one too) and so on.

What was NOT on any list I have read or heard was HEMORRHOIDS.

I thought I’d broken my bum the other day as I sat crying on the loo wondering what on earth was happening down there. Was I one of those women who didn’t know they were pregnant and was actually giving birth to a child on the toilet? I have read about this quite a few times so it isn’t uncommon. Do I put my hand down there in case there is a little person that I think is a poop? Oh please let this be a poop. I don’t want to touch it, and to make you all feel better, the poop finally came out with me shrieking in ‘labor pain’ and there was no baby to rescue. Phew. AND I didn’t need to touch it ewe!

I really didn’t want to go to the local doctor about this just yet because really, we have only just met and I am constantly asking him to look at my scar where the boob used to be and he might think me a bit of a perv if I go in there and ask him to look at my bum so I did the absolute worst thing in the world and checked out Dr Google.

**Warning, unless you are completely prepared and have an iron stomach, do not type in to google, Hemorrhoids. Those pictures will never ever leave your brain**

The reasons for hemorrhoids had nothing to do with me as I read through the list, pregnancy, child birth, old age, and then there was the answer…. moving a stool. Whilst I hadn’t moved a stool as such that day, I had moved a bedside cabinet the day before and it was quite heavy!

Ah ha! I had my answer, or so I thought. Please keep in mind I am not overly bright but if something says you can get a sore bum from moving a piece of furniture, and you have moved a piece of furniture recently, then that is what you will believe.

Obviously, I wanted a ‘second’ opinion so went to another site and again, they are talking about moving stools and it clicked. Nope, it was not furniture related, a stool is a poo! Why the hell do they call it a stool? It is nothing like a stool. It is a piece of poo that comes out, not something you can invite the neighbour to sit on. Where on earth do these people come up with words like stool for a piece of poo. A poo is a poo for goodness sake.

Dr Hands came home from work and I told him the sad news of my bum and without even taking a breath to understand my pain and discomfort, he is in peels of laughter. He can’t stop. He laughs for so long and I just stand there looking at him. Wow, this is not the Dr Hands I know. Who Is He?

Once he composes himself, he yells out “Price check in aisle 3 for Hemorrhoid cream, Price check in aisle 3” and he hasn’t stopped. Three days now I have heard this being hollered through the house. As I waddle out of the toilet he laughs and laughs. I am not entirely sure why he thinks this is so funny…

The next thing is getting treatment. Remember that day I went to our little country local chemist and bought a ‘value pack’ of condoms because Pharmacy Mary said they were better value if we were going to use a lot of them…. and then a few hours later Sam went to see the same Pharmacy Mary and bought the biggest box of latex gloves…… how do I walk in and ask Pharmacy Mary for bloody hemorrhoid cream?

Price check on barcode.
Price check on barcode.

Image from,d.dGY&psig=AFQjCNGev82xPnGPnP12wXzz41r1OWNUsA&ust=1436760236631183

To Poop or Not to Poop… that is the question

Here it is ladies and gentlemen. The one you have been waiting for. The Poop Blog.

There are a few ‘oldies’ here that followed my previous blog ‘I Woke Up Fat’ discussing the time, well, when I woke up fat. These people know my fascination for poop and have been waiting, I’m sure, for it to pop along here somewhere. Well, it has and here it is.

I don’t know where my fascination for pooping came from but its here and I love to poop. Imagine my concern, my terror, my absolute horror, when I could poop no more. Three whole days without a single poop occured after surgery. Not even a ‘need’ to poop. Nothing. WHERE IS MY POOP!!??

Turns out, my new friend Endone takes away your poop. So who do I chose. Do I keep my new friend Endone who takes away the pain of my recent boobectimy and lymph nodes or do I turn my back on Endone and wait for my great mate Poop?

Once I had worked out that I can’t have both in my life at one time, I did turn my back on Endone. Today I made the decision to give it up. Go cold turkey with Endone.  I didn’t want to be so harsh and I felt just awful for it but I was worried about where the poop was going? Where do you store poop when not plopping it into the loo? I am big enough that I dont want to create more room on this very womanly body to have a holding bay for my poop. I am eating and drinking so I know it is in there somewhere. So I kicked my friend Endone to the curb, well, kitchen bench and took a couple of panadol and went about my day.

As time went on, I felt poop return. It was only a little niggle but I knew it was there. I smiled. I almost even blushed. It was almost time.

Once the time came, I almost skipped into the toilet but refrained due to drippy still being attached to me, and down I sat, ready for poop.

It was over so quick. I couldn’t believe that a few days of food and water and that was all I had. A rabbit could do more than this. To say I was disappointed was an understatement. There were almost tears. I didn’t even feel this robbed when leftie was taken. WHERE IS MY POOP DAMN IT!

Thankfully, there was a better outcome a little later but not my usual release of amazingness. That will come back I am sure. But what did come back was the pain. Oh the pain! And it was not the pain of missing my poop, this time it was the real pain. The wound pain, ooooh no, now it was time to say goodbye to my poop again. This is getting really quite difficult to balance.

Endone won. 2 Endone were had tonight due to the pain and discomfort and bossy Dr Hands (Sam) giving me a lecture on keeping up with the pain medication and didn’t I listen to the nurses in the hospital and blah blah blah. Does he not know what it is like to miss your Poop?

And who the bloody hell says Endone makes you sleepy? It does not make me sleepy!! Well, it makes me dopey, ok ok, dopier than usual. And slow. It makes me slow. Imagine a turtle, with big rubber boots on, and a brick on its back, having eaten too much at dinner, and maybe had a few glasses of champagne, that is how I feel after Endone. But asleep I am not. It also makes me think which is waaay out there because I dont think I am much of a thinker usually. I try not to dwell on things or go over things but once Endone is around, I think a lot. And obviously babble on about all sorts of nothings 🙂

So that was my Sunday. Deciding who I wanted to be friends with more. Poop or Endone.

On a brighter note, I am heading to the hospital in the morning to hopefully get drippy removed. I will chat to the nurses then about how to balance this current issue of mine. They’ll have the answers, they are amazing people.