WARNING: This is a TMI post. You will not be able to un-read it, so if TMI-y things tend to bother you, do not keep reading.
I knew about the sore breasts, the fatigue, and the nausea. I did not know about the constipation. It is in all my books as a “symptom” but I thought with my history of ulcerative colitis that I would cancel out the constipation and end up somewhere around normal. I was wrong.
It turns out that the progesterone capsules I shove up my bajingo twice a day can cause constipation. Even more dramatically, Zofran — the drug that allows me to only dry-heave my way through the work day instead of barfing myself silly at home — also causes constipation. The two of them teamed up and it is not pretty.
The only other time I have had this happen was post-miscarriages when I was pleasantly doped up on pain medicine every four hours. I took Colace (a stool-softener) then, too, and while I was uncomfortable, I was not physically miserable. This time, I fear I started the Colace too late.
I blew out my boh-poh.* I can barely walk and can only lay down in certain positions. I am bleeding and I am seriously considering putting an ice-pack on my ass. Why was I not warned that this could happen? With colitis, I thought not going to the bathroom for a day (or two?) was good news; this was not good news. This is horrible. Awful. Painful.
I am now taking fiber, Colace, and drinking lots and lots of fluids. Prune juice will make me ralph, but milk-of-magnesia is looking better and better. Hopefully, something will work and my boh-poh can heal.
My third ultrasound is tomorrow morning. Did you know that when you are very nervous you tend to clench your boh-poh? Why, neither did I until today. I have been practicing “conscious muscle relaxation” that I learned years ago in yoga. I am sure this is exactly the situation my teacher intended it for.
*My four-year-old friend Maya taught me this word. Some of you may know the same anatomy by the terms “butt-hole” or “anus” but I prefer “boh-poh” — it has a nice ring, eh?