SLIP, SPLASH & A PUDDLE OF MUD

Wow!! Okay, then, my surgery is over. It was a grueling two weeks to encompass procedures and surgery but finally, I can kiss the ambulatory surgical unit a sweet and fond adieu!

My story is a familiar one to those who have suffered with the situation I’d gone through, but I decided to share my experiences and hope that I might be able to put a smile on your face.

HOWEVER, since this is a somewhat delicate subject, if you find it’s not to your liking, please stop reading now and just peruse my other work.

ALL THAT SAID….

It all started years ago when my hemorrhoids started getting the best of me. I put off any kind of treatment except the nightly use of that dear little blue and yellow tube. Prep H became my best friend.

However, each day, I’d be forced to wear an extra-long sanitary napkin – just in case.

Just in case? you might ask.

Not trying to sound gross but, aw hell, there is no other way to say it: all too often after a bowel movement, a bit of fecal matter can get trapped behind your growing hemorrhoids. Then, what happens when you sit? Well, the hemorrhoids shift and the now remnant stool matter that has turned to a more liquid consistancy due to body temperature starts to ooze out! Yeah, messy. Ergo, the napkin!!

After too many years, I decided to have them “fixed”.

I sought out the local colorectal surgeon (the only specialist in our county and from my research, found he’s one of the two more recommended on the west side of Florida within driving distance).

After my consultation, he made a decision. Before he would address the issue at hand (hand?) (no not my hand, my butt!! Let’s get the anatomy right!) he said a few tests would needed. He checked my medical record and found that too many people in my family had bowel disorders. My great grandmother died from a bowel disorder (atony of the bowels) at the age of thirty-four. Her daughter (my grandmother) and my mom suffered from severe IBS-D. I have two sons. One has ulcerative colitis and the other, Chron’s disease. My dad died from colon cancer.

The doctor said he would rather check for disorders before the h---ectomy rather than begin and find an additional problem. I agreed. It made perfect sense.

The first two procedures went smoothly. No preps, just probes, done a week apart. Whew! Passed those with a very slight hiccup. I have the beginning of the disorder to which my great grandmother succumbed. Oh well, it’s in the early stages and the doctor said it can be treated.

The next was the colonoscopy. Not happy with that prep but hey, drink a little fluid, take two pills, get cleaned out, and - clean and done!!

Happy to report, he found NO cancer. Yippee. Now on to the hemorrhoidectomy.

One week later, I’m home from the drug store with my little prep kit: MiraLAX powder, Dulcolax pills and a one-liter bottle of 7-Up.

Yeah, you have to drink a full sixty-four ounces of liquid mixed with about ten single packets of the powder. For this surgery your intestines need to be completely empty. Oh joy!!

Makes sense, though, since I’m totally sure the doctor wouldn’t be happy if you suddenly had a muddy BM in his face!

Speaking of which makes me wonder why any person, male or female would choose this particular specialty.

Anyway, the surgical unit called and said I needed to arrive at eight on a Tuesday morning. To me, that meant that I needed to begin my “prep” the morning before the procedure.

At seven on Monday morning, I fixed myself a cup of (milk less) tea (everything you drink has to be clear liquid) and poured in a packet of MiraLAX with a chaser of the required three Dulcolax pills. Half an hour later, I had my second cup of tea with another packet of MiraLAX but (thankfully), I didn’t need more pills.

Half an hour later, I switched to the 7-Up. By three in the afternoon, my liquid was DONE!! Now the wait….. oh crap!! I didn’t run to the bathroom. Running wasn’t a thing I wanted my feet to do for good reason. But I hurried!

Now, before I continue, I need to describe my bathroom. When you walk through the doorway, the little “johnny” room is on the right. On the left is the linen closet. Keep walking and you get to the vanity, tub and walk-in shower. So, you see? I really didn’t have a far walk to “go”.

I made it! Whew! Got myself seated and well, let the fun begin.

Twenty minutes later, I gently lifted myself off the porcelain throne, flushed, then began walking the few feet to the shower. I reach out for the knob and what the?????

Once again, I’m trying not to run. I’ll be doing that soon enough.

I’m at my little johnny room and yank down my pants and aw, crap! I tried hurriedly to get my butt on the toilet as the brown mud is pouring out of me, but I turned too quickly and “sprayed” the room. There was the brown muddy substance on the walls, floor, my white toilet is now brown, and the stuff is still pouring out like a broken dam.

Hurriedly I turn to sit and well, I’m not klutz for nothing, so I tripped over my own foot, and as I turned, had my butt fall on the toilet – SPLAT!! I hit with such force that the brown mud that had already sprayed the toilet, all but exploded when my butt fell on it. Again, all over the walls, the toilet, the floor, the windowsill, me! And because it was now brown slippery liquid on the toilet seat and on me, I kept sliding back and forth as I braced my hands on the walls to settle my body.

Out of breath, I sat for approximately thirty minutes. Once the “urge” passed, I slowly stood but didn’t move. Ah! Nothing. I turned to view the mess I’d made. Ok, still no erupting volcano. Slowly, I turned, step by step, inch by inch (remember that one?) I made my way, five feet to the shower and turned on the spout.

Good! Still no volcano!

After my shower, I cleaned the johnny room (it took more than an hour, but I got it done), then went back to the shower and scrubbed myself clean.

Thoroughly exhausted, I put on my PJs and gently sat on the couch that I had already protected with several towels (just in case).

The time was now almost six in the afternoon, and I felt the explosions were over. Even though the doctor said I could drink a small amount of clear liquid until nine at night, I didn’t dare put anything in my stomach.

The next morning, ninety minutes before my surgery, I experienced a very mild eruption. Then all was calm. Whew! Finally!

Now, I am recuperating and while still a bit sore, so glad it’s over – in so many ways!