Sunday, July 11, 2010

It finally happened ... finally happened...

Lt. Frank Drebin: Oh, it's all right. I'm sure that we can handle this situation maturely, just like the responsible adults that we are. Isn't that right, Mr... Poopy Pants? - Naked Gun 2 1/2.

The past couple of days have been a bit tragic for the old HM, what with a corked back and all ... and an inability to shit. Yes my infamous bowels compacted again, and I'm pretty sure it was the half litre of ice-cream that did it, leaving me with an IBS fever.

Yes, you can get so compacted you end up in a fever state. At 3am on Saturday morning I was completely doolalee. I writhed and moaned and soaked the under-sheet with sweat.

Come Saturday, now mostly compus, all I ate was a couple of chocolate squares and some weetabix.

That and parachoc - which is a baby laxative "chocolate vanilla" flavoured foam. It's hideous.

Extreme gut pain returned Sunday morning and once more I went into a fevered state. Finally I woke in agony, turned on the light, and lay there whimpering wishing and praying - hey no one's an atheist in a fox-hole - for something to happen.

Yeah ... it happened. A nice liquidy shart.

Unfortunately for me, because I'd been all fevered, I'd dropped trou earlier to writhe naked - all bloated sweaty and hairy. Fortunately I hadn't changed the sheets which I'd sweat laced the night before. But still it's an awesome experience to be in your late 30s stripping your bed because of a nocturnal emission ... except it wasn't even of the good Las Vegas kind.

So now, about five trips to the lav later for explosive liquid disposal, I am starting to feel a little better. I saw dawn come in, that's nice, and spent most of my time lying on my old sleeping bag from when I was a kid on top of the foam underlay of a stripped off bed reading a 90s political thriller I've always meant to read.

At least the gut pain has dropped from a 9 to a 4 on the ten pain scale. Which is lucky because I've run out of pain killers that cause minimal constipation - and last time I was at the doc when I got it refilled I got a lecture about pain killer consumption.

I admit ... on occasion ... I may have taken a pill or two when not strictly required because I got a buzz from it. But that's a rarity. For the most part I take pain killers to turn the dial on the pain meter down a couple of points to background noise instead of screaming gut clenching sweat cascading agony.

Anyway, that's my Sunday experience. My breath tests start soon and maybe once and for all I will nail down what causes this. Fucking hell, I hope so. I hate how this ebbs and flows. I suspect it's lactose intolerance - and I probably had it all my life but didn't know that the usual experience of not having gut pain was enjoyed by other people. Go figure.

Back to the sleeping bag ... or maybe a round of Warlords II.

TheNoo had an awful night. TheWife ended up giving up and taking him into bed with her. I went in to check since he wasn't in his room. He's all curled up, his large eyes closed in peaceful slumber.

Lucky bastard!

8 comments:

  1. Anonymous10:49 AM

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  2. Anonymous10:49 AM

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  3. Anonymous10:49 AM

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  4. Anonymous10:49 AM

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  5. I'm gonna go out a a tremendously abstract and random limb here, and suggest that maybe - just maybe - 500mls of icecream may not be a great thing for someone with IBS to eat...

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  6. I'm with Patrick.

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  7. Yeah I figured that was the trigger this time.

    Trouble is that A) I love ice-cream (I know, hardly an excuse) and B) it's one of the few foods I can actually eat in turns of not having an issue going in.

    It's when it tries to come out, birthing like the alien baby, that becomes the issue.

    I suppose, in a way, ice-cream is my electrified cup-cake...

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  8. Anonymous3:06 AM

    OH MY EYES I AM BLIND FROM THE READING

    Also: hehehe, gross. :)

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