I’ve been constipated once in my life, and boy, was it a doozy.
When: 2am during a heat wave
Where: The third floor, un-airconditioned bathroom of my parents’ house
Who: Me, naked and sweating on a toilet
What: Three days of feces failing to come out of my ass
You guys… I cried. Like, my-best-friend-showed-my-diary-to-my-crush crying. The world didn’t make sense any more, it was just a cruel, dark place, full of sweat and pain.
After more than half an hour of straining and grunting and crying, I cut my nails, lubed the fuck out of my fingers, and disimpacted myself. I eased my fingers into my anus, and did a swirl-and-scoop. The relief was almost immediate, and I kept crying, but in joy. I feel like it’s weird (sad?) that of the two times in my life I cried out of happiness, one of them was while I dug poop out of my butt, but there it is.
People, eat your fiber.