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 A Few Days, My AssPosted 04.16.2007 by Liz (41)
Have you ever been so constipated that you would literally sell your soul to the devil just to take a good old-fashioned dump? Have you ever been so constipated that you would sacrifice your first born to the Defecation Deities, if only they would let you release the impacted monster that lay waiting in your colon? I have. And this is my story.
I spent three days in the hospital this past winter with two intestinal viruses wreaking havoc upon my system. I was siii-iiick. When I was finally released, I was told that the viruses had affected my bowels, but that they would start working again in a few days. A few days, my ass. I took a dump in the hospital. Let's call this Day One. I was released from the hospital on Day Three. So far, no problems. Day Four, I started feeling a little bloated. Day Five, the cramps began. Days Six and Seven, I ate broccoli, apples, prunes, raisins, apricots, pinto beans, and Mini-Wheats. I took Metamucil, Ex-Lax, Milk of Magnesia, and everything else under the sun. I prayed for relief. I asked friends, family members, co-workers, complete strangers, and bums on the street for advice to get things moving again. I took to wearing my fat pants and my husband's sweats. I even contemplated buying maternity clothes -- my stomach was that distended. Day Eight, I panicked. Day Eight was the turning point. I decided to call my doctor. After three hours, he finally decided that Mrs. Can't Poop To Save Her Life probably wanted to be called back. He was sooooo sympathetic as he told me to take Milk of Magnesia. Yeah, that was reallllllllly working. I went to bed that night feeling loaded-down and hopeless. Day Nine, I was at work. I teach pre-school, and my class is small -- only eight kids. The room comes equipped with a very small, child-sized toilet. This toilet is smaller than the ones they have in elementary schools. It is tiny! Under no circumstances are the teachers allowed to use this toilet. Can you guess what happens next? I was teaching the class about penguins when I felt a little funny. It had been so long since I felt the urge to poop that I didn't immediately recognize that this funny feeling was the nine-day log dislodging itself from my intestinal walls. Ok, no problem. I can hold it. My break is in an hour. Well, was I wrong. About 3.2 minutes later, the poop was upon me. I didn't even think about the repercussions. My room adjoins with the next room, so I screamed the next room's teacher's name at the top of my lungs while running for the door of the kiddie-pot. I undid my pants and sat down for the most wonderful, most gratifying poop of my entire life. I heard the teacher next door run in. I heard the kids inform them that Ms. Elizabeth had gone into the potty. And I heard the teacher give her confused explanation. But I didn't care, because I was shitting! And it was glorious! I pooped for what seemed like an eternity, and it felt amazing! When I was done, I stood up to see my baby before I wiped and sullied it with toilet paper. It was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen. Two solid feet at least, coiled, brown, and hard as a rock. I was so proud that I whipped out my camera phone and snapped a picture for further examination and admiration. I wiped -- and lo and behold, the gods were smiling. There was nothing. I was skidmark free. I love those rare and beautiful poops. It took three flushes in that small, inadequate toilet to down the monster, but finally it disappeared into the promised land. I gathered my composure and exited the small room to looks of confusion from my students. I pulled the other teacher aside (she had known about my little problem) and explained. She was very understanding. She promised to keep it a secret, and she helped me convince the kids I was killing a bug I saw run under the bathroom door. How wonderfully light and free I finished that day of work. Post new comment
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