I was told in 2009 that my lungs would collapse in two years – so everything is gravy to me…
However, there are some things which happen in my life that, although terrible at face value may serve as a lesson of some sort to someone. This story is not for the faint hearted or the weak stomached. If you retch at the thought of poo, this true story will hurt so just stop reading.
I don’t want to be responsible for ruining your day. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.
Today is one of those days, the incident which happened a few hours ago is a life changing event. That is, I’m so grossed out I am having issues sharing. This is my reality and it’s VERY real so it’s happening.
Sharing helps me to come to terms with the adjustment of increasing disability and the loss I feel. Plus, you must laugh at yourself otherwise you are really lost to the dark side of life.
I awoke feeling knackered from a unrestorative sleep. I padded around the flat trying to stand up straight – this happens to all of us, eventually – and I let the dog out. I make my very weak coffee attend the bathroom, feed the dog, and watch some videos on YouTube.
It’s a slow morning. The weather is grey with streaks of light coming through, a beautiful, normal day.
Bruiser (the dog) has recently become a house guest (again) and we are getting on famously. He was sleeping on the floor when I got up to scribble something down – a popular pastime of mine – and I as I walked across the room, I let out some wind. Quite normal you’d think, although a little embarrassing.
However, a piece of poo flew out of me and down my trouser bottoms so fast, it hardly had time to register, before Bruiser jumped up and ate it. I managed to scream, “noooo”. But it was gone.
Two things.
One is that I’m mortified. The expelling of bowel contents without one’s prior knowledge is a shock. This could be because of the TVT mesh and Stapled Hemroidplexy which I stupidly agreed to. Regardless, this will take some getting used to.
The second is the dog. He ate my poo. He came up to me afterwards for a cuddle. ‘was not happening as I couldn’t look at him. I still can’t, if I’m honest lol. Will our relationship ever be the same?
It took me two hours to stop crying. Two hours. My top was drenched. I then started laughing. This could be the start of a symbolic relationship. I mean I pick up his poo and place it in a bag to bin it. Perhaps he could follow me around and clean up after me? It would save me a fortune in adult nappies (tears again).
I live in a built-up area and the law states one must do this ‘poo picking’. Most dog owners take this responsibility seriously but do not like to discuss it. It occurred to me that perhaps he is returning the favor? However, if this were the case surely, he could eat his own and save me the bother of picking it up at all?
Once I had stopped crying and made an appointment for the doctor, I thought I’d call my daughter and gross her out too… After all, it is a time of ‘sharing is caring’. I did prepare her, before telling her, but that didn’t stop her hand drawing up across her mouth in shock…
After retching some, she laughed and told me not to worry about it. Apparently, this was one of the reasons they had a lock on the babies’ nappy bin.
So, what does this teach us? It certainly has taught me not to rely on wind just being wind.
Thanks for reading.
