My kingdom for a shit!

24 Nov

If only I could do that...

Having an appendicitis operation is one thing, getting back to normal life (or back home) is another. Actually the most painful is not the little hole in your tummy, but rather learning to walk, sleep and to eat again… And I won’t mention the most difficult of all: learning to shit again (forgive my French).

Don’t you just love liquid food…

Soon I'll turn into liquid myself...

The first 24 hours after the operation (Friday), the only thing I was allowed was “drip” – yummy – straight into a little tap they had stuck into my arm (reminds me of the clinical trials I did). So I had food drip, antibiotic drip, tranquiliser drip, etc drip.

It’s only the day after the operation (Saturday) that I got “real” food – even thought most of it was quite liquid still (soups, boiled veg, etc). To my big surprise the Doc walks in 2 days after the operation (Sunday) and tells me “I’m dismissed” – “you may go” except I didn’t have anywhere to go, or anyone to go to… (sniff, drama,…)

Recovering at the 4star pool and the buffet

Buffets as i like them: big, huge, lots, all-u-can,...

My travel insurance had to find me a little abode where I could rest and recover (preferably at a pool ;-), and after an ignorant attempt to put me in Las Palmas (the capital, 150km from where I was, completely on the other side of the island!), they found me a lovely 4 star hotel right in the centre of the hustle and bustle of Playa del Ingles. Not that I was in a state to hustle or bustle anything though…

When they threw me out of the hospital, I got a paper, signed by the doctor, saying what I could eat: it said ‘normal’. I even specifically double-checked with the nurse whether it meant I could eat food ‘with taste’ again – after the Dieta Blanda (tasteless diet) they had forced upon me. “Of course, my dear” she said, blinking her eye at me… Great – so I ate what I ‘normally’ eat from the breakfast and dinner buffets! Yummy yummy for my tummy.

  • That’s what I thought at least…

Let’s get you back home, Sir

All of a sudden I had nothing but poo on my head

The next day already (Monday) the insurance called me and told me they could arrange a flight back home the following day (Tuesday) (maybe they found out how much the 4 stars cost and wanted to get me out of there). Great) – that would give me at least one day (Wednesday) to organise my trip to Asia (leaving Thursday am).

  • But there was one condition, said the insurance doctor:
  • I needed to have a normal transit = bowel movement = shit normally before flying…

Why? The pressure inside airplanes is lower than normal – so gases tend to expand and take more space than usual (that’s why the sealed cups of water or butter are always swollen up when you get them on the plane. The doctor said that if something like that happens to a blocked digestive system, my stomach or my stitches would explode.

  • Thanx for the vivid explanation, doc!

Is there any bowel expert in the room?

Another shitty concern for this time of the year

Shit!” – since I had started eating, with or without taste, I indeed hadn’t been to the loo yet for the big thing. Splashing out on the free 4 star food had not been a good idea either, now I come to think of it. I felt (and probably looked) like a pregnant cow, with my belly growing and screaming for attention – and relief. When the receptionist asked me if I was having twins or rather triplets, it dawned to me that something was wrong!

  • What to do?
  • Cuz: no-shit = no-fly
  • And: no-fly = no-Asia
  • But: no-Asia = no-way!

Serious situations call for serious measures: I texted all my friends that had some vague or explicit experience with bowel issues to ask for advice. How to get it flowing? How to empty what is full? How to squeeze the pregnant cow?

Cultural differences?

Here’s some of their proven remedies:

  • Eat lots of fibre (so what has fibre? was my next question)
  • Drink lots of water or orange juice (natural laxative it turns out)
  • Massage your tummy – or your backside (did I tell you a friend of mine offers prostate massages? Sorry ladies, men only)
  • Squat instead of sitting on toilet (allegedly more natural position)
  • Go to the Construction (this one obviously came from a friend who knew the reputation of this very cruisy bar with very dark dark room)
  • Take a laxative (top or bottom – life is full of choises)
  • Walk, jump, shake your belly (not sure if the whole in my tummy would agree)
  • Vegetables: carrot, cucumber, banana,… (if it doesn’t want to come out -go and get it!)
  • or alternatively a dildo or the real thing would do too (well, as if I’d have that in my suitcase)
  • Whistle while on the pot (letting air out slowly), rather than over-pressurising the belly
  • Yoga, inhale into your belly, exhale from your behind
  • Hot bath or shower to relax all muscles (also the posterior ones)
  • or the inside shower (I don’t mean inside as inside the bathroom, or inside the hotel… google enema if you want)

I have to admit, I did not try all of these undoubtfully super-effective remedies, but after an afternoon and evening of trying I gave up (already seeing my Asia trip fall to pieces). I just took a double dose of paracetamol (one for my bodily pains, and one for the mental ones) and went to bed. Sigh

The big delivery – Hallelujah

An artistic intellectual view on the matter

And then it happened! During the night I woke up and it came, all by itself! Some decent strong piece of poo. I apologise I didn’t take any picture of it. It must have been the emotion. I think I’ve never been so happy with my bowel movements in my life.

  • Eureka. I can shit. Huray, I can fly!

Side effects of shitting

The side effects of the operation, including all these bowel exercises, are quite serious. With hindsight, I think the most painful of the appendicitis operation is the muscle pain in the legs and in my back.

Of course there is a hole in your belly, and it hurts. But in order to prevent it from hurting, I had been walking so carefully not to twist my belly, that actually I strained my back muscles and my calves (legs) more than my tummy hurts.

That means I must have walked quite funnily, because I used all kind of muscles that normally I don’t usen with quite ‘a swing’ in my moves, well, a different one than usual…

For the rest life is becoming more beautiful every day:

  • I’m back in Belgium (Tuesday) and I didn’t explode in the air
  • I can sleep on my side again (I was on my back for the last 5 days)
  • Hiccups, lauging or coughing don’t hurt anymore
  • Little soldier is back on duty, not sure yet what mission I should send him on
  • I can walk normal again (well, what’s normal anyway)
  • I manage to put on my socks
<!–[if !mso]> <! st1\:*{behavior:url(#ieooui) } –>

My kingdom for a shit!

GranCanaria, operation, appendicitis, shit, food

Having an appendicitis operation is one thing, getting back to life is another. Actually the most painful is not the little hole in your tummy, but rather learning to walk, sleep and to eat again… And I won’t mention the most difficult of all: learning to shit again (forgive my French).

— —

Don’t you just love liquid food…

The first 24 hours after the operation (Friday), the only thing I was allowed was “drip” – yummy – straight into a little tap they had stuck into my arm (reminds me of the clinical trials I did). So I had food drip, antibiotic drip, tranquiliser drip, etc drip.

It’s only the day after the operation (Saturday) that I got “real” food – even thought most of it was quite liquid still (soups, boiled veg, etc). To my big surprise the Doc walks in 2 days after the operation (Sunday) and tells me “I’m dismissed” – “you may go” except I didn’t have anywhere to go, or anyone to go to… (sniff, drama,…)

Recovering at the pool and the buffet

My travel insurance had to find me a little abode where I could rest and recover (preferably at a pool ;-), and after an ignorant attempt to put me in Las Palmas (the capital, 150km from where I was, completely on the other side of the island!), they found me a lovely 4 star hotel right in the centre of the hustle and bustle of Playa del Ingles. Not that I was in a state to hustle or bustle anything though…

When they threw me out of the hospital, I got a paper, signed by the doctor, saying what I could eat: it said ‘normal’. I even specifically double-checked with the nurse whether it meant I could eat food ‘with taste’ again – after the Dieta Blanda (tasteless diet) they had forced upon me. “Of course, my dear” she said, blinking her eye at me… Great – so I ate what I ‘normally’ eat from the breakfast and dinner buffets! Yummy yummy for my tummy.

That’s what I thought at least…

Let’s get you back home, Sir

The next day already the insurance called me and told me they could arrange a flight back home the following day (Tuesday) (maybe they found out the 4 stars were more expensive than they thought). Great – that would give me at least one day to organise my trip to Asia (leaving Thursday).

But there was one condition, said the insurance doctor:

I needed to have a normal transit before flying…

The pressure inside airplanes is lower than normal – so gases tend to expand and take more space than usual (that’s why the sealed cups of water or butter are always swollen up when you get them on the plane. The doctor said that if something like that happens to a blocked digestive system, my stomach or my stitches would explode.

‘Thanx for explaining, doc!’

Is there any bowel expert in the room?

“Shit” – since I had started eating, with or without taste, I indeed hadn’t been to the loo yet for the big thing. Splashing out on the free 4 star food had not been a good idea either, now I come to think of it. I felt (and probably looked) like a pregnant cow, with my belly screaming for attention – and relief. When one of the passers-by asked me if I was having twins or rather triplets, it dawned to me that something was wrong!

What to do?

Cuz: no-shit = no-fly

And: no-fly = no-Asia

So I had to take some serious measures. I texted all my friends that had some vague or explicit experience with bowel issues to ask for advice. Here’s some of the suggestions:

Eat lots of fibre (so what has fibre? was my next question)

Drink lots of water or orange juice (natural laxative it turns out)

Massage your tummy – or your backside (did I tell you a friend of mine offers prostate massages? Sorry ladies, men only)

Squat instead of sitting on toilet (allegedly more natural position)

Go to the Construction (this one obviously came from a friend who knew the reputation of this very cruisy bar with very dark dark room)

Take a laxative (top or bottom – life is full of choises)

Walk, jump, shake your belly (not sure if the whole in my tummy would agree)

Vegetables: carrot, cucumber, banana,… or alternatively a dildo or the real thing (well, as if I’d have that in my suitcase)

Whistle while on the pot (letting air out slowly), rather than over-pressurising the belly

Yoga, inhale into your belly, exhale from your behind

Hot bath or shower to relax all muscles, also the posterior ones

I have to admit, I did not try all of these undoubtfully super-effective remedies, but after an afternoon and evening of trying I gave up (already seeing my Asia trip fall to pieces). I just took a double dose of paracetamol (one for my bodily pains, and one for the mental ones) and went to bed. Sigh

The big delivery – Hallelujah

And then it happened! During the night I woke up and it came, all by itself! Some decent strong piece of poo. I apologise I didn’t take any picture of it. It must have been the emotion. I think I’ve never been so happy with my bowel movements in my life.

Eureka. I can shit. Huray, I can fly!

Side effects of shitting

The side effects of the operation, including all these bowel exercises, are quite serious. With hindsight, I think the most painful of the appendicitis operation is the muscle pain in the legs and in my back.

Of course there is a hole in your belly, and it hurts. But in order to prevent it from hurting, I had been walking so carefully not to twist my belly, that actually I strained my back muscles and my calves (legs) more than my tummy hurts.

That means I must have walked quite funnily, because I used all kind of muscles that normally I don’t usen with quite ‘a swing’ in my moves, well, a different one than usual…

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