The Colon Chronicles - Part Ic

From swan:

(Date: 9 Jan 1996)

Sensei wrote: "Apparently, some bright spark discovered that if you keep the operation site clear by use of abrasive substances like dry toast, you actually heal quicker. Some equally bright, but far more sadistic spark discovered that the same philosophy can be applied to the rectum and the aforementioned haemorrhoids.

So, they cut the 'rhoids out of your shitter and then apply medication and diverse substances to um, make you "go".

According to MIL, you scream; often and at great volume."

YARST!! *shudder* I *cringe* at the very THOUGHT...!

Fortunately, my arse is PRISTINE, thenkyewveddymuch! Not a "rhoid in sight. But then I seldom force the issue with grogans. I just let them mosey on out into the great wide world.

When I had my spinal surgery I experienced my body's *usual* reaction to hospitals. "God dammit, you put me in this pest hole, I'm not SHITTIN til we get HOME, you bastard!" and my bowels did their Fort Knox gig!

I had one Filipina nurse who would greet me cheerfully each morning "Did we have our Movement this morning?" to which my varying reply was fairly caustic.

"We don't know... bend over and we'll check."

"I'll shit later... I'm keeping it warm for breakfast."

"No, but if you want to LOOK, I'll get some special magazines I've been SAVING!"

and she would respond with "Let me know so I can put it in your chart."

Finally, after severalk shitless days, the old CygnoSphincter was pretty bored! I was getting edgy and by bowels were Concrete City! PLUS there was the added threat that Nurse Nancy would come in with the finger cot and the Vaseline... OHHHHNOOOOOO! Finally, I decided to be proactive on the situation. I asked for an Impaction Tray. The nurse said "We will do that tomorrow, if you haven't had your movement by tonight." "No," said I, "*I* will do it this afternoon!" "But your incision... you don't want to twist around too much..." "Lady, If I can't reach my arse with my fingers, my sex life is over, anyway, so I might as well die The Death of a Thousand Turds ANYWAY, now lemme do my own bleeding ARSE!"

They brought the tray.

I hobbled painfully (what one DOES with a seven inch incision!) over and closed the curtains as far as they would close. I lay down on my side and put the latex cot on my middle finger... the "digger" as I fondly called the digit. Smearing a generous glob of goo onto the glovelet, I laved my tender bung with it until I started to get that "mmmmm, yeah... this is a bit of all RIGHT..." feeling. The cygnoSphincter began to untense a bit... Gingerly, I arched (OW!) my back to get some more room... my stitches groaned, but held. Gradually, I eased my Digit of Deliverance into my nether portal. Deeper. Deeper. THERE! My foraging finger had located a fecalith. I pushed down to move it along in the rectal canal. It moved a bit and I carefully hooked my finger around its sides. Mmmmph.. Unnnngh! My GODS, what was IN there? Mmmmmf! It took a while, but I finally urged the massive thing to my starfish. Now, the Moment of Truth! COULD I pass TurdZilla, or would I have to wimp out and break it up with my fingers? I set my teeth and began to strain. Unnnnnnnngggggghhh!

My sides rippled like Ma Termite laying eggs in one of those nature films. Slowly, the tip of the monstor began to emerge. More... My abused ringpiece howled like a banshee in season. Unused since before the surgery, two days ago, it yelled bloody murder. I continued to push, my machismo WOULDN'T let me break the fucker up NOW! Have you ever seen a cow give birth? Close. Verrrrry close!

Finally, the massive glob of solidified hospital food emerged nearly intact to fall into the waiting blue plastic mangerH^H^H^H^H^H^bed pan awaiting it. Two more lesser grogans followed in rapid succession and I felt soooooo much better!

JUST then, the curtains rattled heartily back (I'm still naked, on my side, arse facing the door and shit all over...) as the Filipina beauty chirped "Time for your blood pres-- Oh!" "I've had my movement! Bring me the chart..." said I, waving a stained bloody finger, "so I can put this in it!" She fled.

It was with great satisfaction that I saved the monstor grogan. After lunch, when I had cleaned my plate, I deposited the hummer on the crockery and covered it with the plastic dome. I put a note on top. "Found this today. thought it might be yours. Room 916 Bed A."

The poor bastard in Bed A (whose moaning had kept me up for HOURS in the night) caught holy Hell for sending shit to the kitchen.

Swan