Three Clowns in Brown Town

August 11th, 2015

I’m was feeling fine until 3:00, then I started to have aches and pains, as predicted. Last night, I suggested to Maddy that she and I train for a 5K together after all of this is over, and I finally got a genuine smile out of her. I hate running.

A couple of years ago, I went to a GI doc; she was a lot like Chris Rock, so just imagine him. Chris Rock gave me 5 days of pills to take with little rubber bands that glow in an X-ray. On day six, we did the X-ray to see how many were still there. All of them. “Damn girl, your bowels don’t even move. I don’t even know if I can call that sluggish. It’s supposed to be a bowel movement. HA!” He gives me all kinds of prescriptions to try, even ones that aren’t FDA approved that I have to get from a pharmacy in England. (Here is where I’d like to get on a soapbox—if we had a database of people with bowel trouble and MS, Chris Rock could have found out what might work without actually having to experiment on me with unapproved drugs.)

Chris Rock sends me to a physical therapist. Imagine Natasha Fatale from Rocky and Bullwinkle, only she’s not evil, just beautiful and better than me. I don’t want to say anything about this experience except this: if any of you complain about a prostrate exam, and I accidentally punch you in the face, just forgive me. After 8 weeks of mortifying “therapy,” I’m sent packing with a fat “F.”

I go to a hippie for a colonic. After a poop-nado down her hallway and all over her bathroom, she suggests that I try an all-liquid diet. “Miso soup is really good for you.”

I return to Chris Rock. “The only thing I can think to do now is remove your large intestine, and sew your small intestine to your sphincter.” I swear to God, those were his exact words.

Removing an organ seems drastic to me. “You know, the senna laxative works. I just don’t want to take it all the time because the bottle says you can become dependent on it.”

Chris Rock deadpans to an off-stage camera, then turns to me. “Honey, that ship has sailed. HA!” He shakes his head at how amusing this whole situation is. “Take it every day—go ahead—and come back if you want to discuss surgery.”

I will not discuss surgery with Chris Rock. I don’t want the medical profession to be run by comedians or cartoons. I don’t understand why all my data gets flushed down the toilet for the sake of my privacy. I want people to ask questions of the data, use the data, so the next time someone with my problem goes to see anyone, they won’t get experimented on all over again.

Now. Let’s never speak of this again.

P.S. That children’s book, Everyone Poops, is a real tearjerker for me.

14 Responses to “Three Clowns in Brown Town”

  1. Heathapatti on August 11, 2015 10:13 pm

    Count me in on that 5k.

  2. Jennifer on August 11, 2015 10:14 pm

    ‘Everybody Poops’ is a classic. And so are you. I am looking forward to your posts every day. Your words, your journey, are my inspiration. Thank you for sharing your life with all of us.

  3. Michelle Leonard on August 11, 2015 10:19 pm

    Feeling guilty here, LMAO while you feel like crap, but it’s your fault. Forget Chris Rock wannabe doctors, YOU ROCK! Now get your pen and paper out and get to work on that novel of yours because you’re on a roll!

  4. Stephanie on August 11, 2015 10:51 pm

    I have already heard these stories directly from you on Wednesday night wine night and I have to say I laughed all the way through this blog. Thanks for being so funny and sharp at the same time :)

  5. Pat on August 11, 2015 11:14 pm

    Collecting defecation data? Sounds like a poop dream to me…

  6. Anne B. Jones on August 12, 2015 4:13 am

    Poop Tales:
    Oh the places I’ve been,
    The doctors I’ve seen,
    Examinations from colon to spleen
    I hate that brew we all have to take
    For procedures that make me tremble and shake.
    Those specimens we give in tiny glass cups
    And the time we have appointments disrupt.

    You have my empathy!

  7. Mom on August 12, 2015 7:12 am

    I have a few stories like that of my own. It’s funny in the telling, but going through it, well an old radio program often ended with the wife telling the husband, “T’ain’t funny, McGee.”

  8. Cheri on August 12, 2015 8:07 am

    Count me in on the 5K and keep writing!

  9. Jill on August 12, 2015 10:07 am

    I’m in for that 5k, too

  10. Laurie J. Edwards on August 12, 2015 11:38 am

    Only you could write a whole post about poop & keep it humorous. I suspect that soon, you’ll not only have that 5 book series ready to go, but you’ll also have a humorous memoir published as well. Let me know when you’re running the 5K. I’ll be there to cheer you on.

  11. Melanie on August 12, 2015 3:26 pm

    I’ll do the 5k too. And while I’m there I’ll punch Chris Rock and Natasha and the hippy in their holier than thou colons.

  12. Liz Hollar on August 12, 2015 9:53 pm

    Wow. I am totally with you on collecting better data so doctors have some actual information behind their decisions. And you can keep any topic so fresh and humorous. You are on a roll. Poop roll. Whatever roll, but it’s an awesome roll.

  13. Shelley J on August 15, 2015 8:24 pm

    I will NOT join you for the 5k, but I will be at the end to hail you and shower you with praise and congratulations!

  14. Shelley J on August 15, 2015 8:25 pm

    I will NOT join you in the 5k or even the .01k, but I will be at the end to hail you and praise you!

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