Call Of Doodie

There are certain points in one’s life when you realize you have reached a low point.  Today, was one of those days.  However, in the right company a sense of humor goes a long way.

The day started off on a positive note because my best friend Briana from California (a friend I stole from my husband) came into town to nurse me.  Little did she know, the lengths and ends (no pun intended, you will understand this later) she will go to for the sake of my well-being and comfort.  Due to the fact that I have been on pain killers for the last two weeks my bowels have become stocked up.  (WARNING!  The remainder of this story is not for the squeamish.  You’ve been warned.)  Leaving me with a stomach looking four months pregnant and hard as a rock.  After keeling over in pain most of the afternoon I decided to take desperate measures and ask Briana to put her finger in a place she never imagined going before.  To my surprise, without missing a beat she said “Glove me!”

I probably shouldn’t be mentioning this, but Briana had some suppositories on hand called Magic Bullets in her toiletry bag.  Her overnight bag is like a Mary Poppins wonderment full of goodies and surprises.  More like Wonder-FUL goodies for me in this case, or so I thought.  That is until she explained to me how the process was going to go down (once again, no pun intended).

Step one: Assume the position; I had to bend over the foot of my bed face down, disrobed from the waist down (in close proximity to my bathroom for obvious reasons).

Step two: Protection; Briana said to Enoch “Glove!” as if to say “Scalpel!” like a surgeon.

Say hello to my little friend! – Briana

Step three: Squeeze KY Jelly onto the Magic Bullet; she was holding the bullet in her right hand between her thumb, index and middle fingers.

Step four: Approach the target, in other words, my rear end; with her left hand she spread my bare cheeks apart giving her a better view of the “target.”

Step five: GENTLY insert the Magic Bullet.  Mind you, I said “Gently.”

YA’LL…it was at this point, I knew my life had reached an ultimate low.  I have always felt that my rear end was an “EXIT ONLY” orifice.  Tonight I was proven wrong.  Kudos to Briana, she didn’t go so far up as though she was checking for cavities.  She already knows I have a dentist.   However, there was a point as she was inserting the suppository that it began to burn, and burn some more.  I let out a war cry of “$#!!!!!!!!!!T.”  Briana took this as I was about to blow all over her, so without hesitation she yanked out her middle finger from my rectum and ducked.  She taking this as a false alarm checked in to make sure that I was alright.  I was, so she then apologetically explained to me that she had to go in again to make sure that the bullet got as far up as it could.  I took a deep breath, buried my face in a pillow and said “DO IT!”  Bracing myself and white-knuckling the pillow I prepared for impact.  She reached up again quickly and before I knew it, the worst of it was over…I should know better than to assume the worst is over.  She told me not to sneeze or cough as she was in the line of fire and my rear end was now an aiming device.

The burning sensation got worse so with my underwear at my ankles I scurried into the bathroom to get some tissue to wipe the KY from my inner cheeks.  I paced back and forth in the bathroom waiting for any sort of movement to occur.  Enoch stood behind me and rubbed my abdomen clockwise to help move things along.  After about five minutes a familiar feeling was on the rise, or shall I say on the way down.

I sat on the toilet and little by little pellets exited my rear end.  I began to get light headed accompanied with cold sweats as something big was approaching.  I continued to sit on the toilet for another thirty minutes holding myself upright against the walls.  I began to think of the reality show “I Didn’t Know I Was Pregnant” and I was afraid to look in the toilet at my remnants fearing life would be staring back at me.  When I thought I had released “it” all I felt that after being violated in ways unimaginable a bath was necessary.  I slowly became relaxed.  In retrospect I guess I became a little TOO relaxed.  I felt the urge to fart.  I took a deep breath, closed my eyes and let her go.  But no bubbles, and no loud ricochet sound off the floor of the tub.  I was puzzled.  That is until I opened my eyes.  You know that phrase that people say when they are going to go #2 “I’m going to drop some kids off at the pool?”  Well, in this case, the kids took a dive in a lake.  I POOPED IN THE BATHTUB!!!  What 25 year old has ever swam in their own feces?  Well folks…I sadly raise my hand.  Thank goodness for a loving and sweet husband to run to my aid.  Upon entering the bathroom he found me on the verge of tears.  He sighed with a grin, shook his head, put on a glove and picked the kids up out of the lake.  He informed me that I now know the meaning of “Sharded.”  To be honest, I could have gone my whole life without having this pleasure.

I took a shower, scrubbed myself raw, dried myself off, and got dressed for bed.  Briana and I crawled up on my bed to watch a chick flick.  But then, another familiar feeling came on quickly.  Slow in my gait, I screamed to Enoch that we had an emergency and an evacuation situation on our hands.  He ushered me into the bathroom, which I barely made it to the toilet.  Noises began to escape my body as though a machine gun was being fired from my arse.  I was moaning and groaning and screaming at Briana “What did you put up my ass?”  Briana, still sitting on my bed, is laughing hysterically to the point of spontaneous urine combustion.  The moans and groans continued.  This machine gun never jammed and fired insistently.  I had no other options but to raise the white flag.  I surrendered.  I didn’t win any battles today.  But, I suppose in the end, I did win the war because my stomach is now poop free.  This Magic Bullet experience has brought new meaning to the song “Puff the Magic Dragon,” but for now, be rest assured, for the dragon sleeps tonight.

This stomach is flat and poop free once again.

I have to share with you probably the funniest part of the story.  As I “assumed the position” Briana tried to lighten the mood by singing her own rendition of “We Can Do Magic” by America in honor of the Magic Bullet suppository she was about to deposit in my A-Hole. Imagine my difficulty trying to relax while I am being serenaded in a very vulnerable position.  For those of you who do not know the words, let me enlighten you, so that you too can feel as if you were there with me to share in my experience.  As I write the lyrics to the chorus below I have to include her ad-libbed lyrics in parentheses.

If you don’t know the song, here it is so you can get the tune stuck in your head as it has been stuck in mine ever since.  Don’t be shy, sing along.

Doo, doo, doo, doo, doo, doo, doo, doo, doo, doo…