***Warning: If you don’t think that reading about disasterous toilet mishaps is funny, I’d stop right now if I was you. Seriously.***
Well holy mother of god was last night… interesting. All of it. The whole night. I should know because I was up for all of it. And not in the old kinda party-all-night-because-I’m-always-the-last-to-bed way. This was very much not my choice.
I went to the hospital yesterday for a normal old run of the mill abdominal scan. They’re fairly commonplace when you’re trying to get knocked up. Unfortunately due to the fact that I am pretty slack about going to the bathroom, my bowel was obstructing my left ovary. Well that’s bloody great. It’s pretty much impossible to go the the bathroom on demand, especially when bowels are involved. So the doctor sent me down to the chemist for laxatives and told me to come back in the morning.
Not taking any chances, I slammed my fist on the counter and demanded the best bloody laxatives known to man. I then modified my request slightly when I was given several delivery options. Make that the best bloody laxatives that go in your mouth, known to man. So that’s what I got. Two small, innocuous looking sachets that you mix with water. One at 3pm and one at 9pm. Easy.
I knocked back the 3pm one and it was actually quite pleasant. It tasted a bit like the pretend cordial we used to get a birthday parties when we were kids. (Actually, that makes me a bit nervous, come to think of it.) It didn’t appear to have much effect, which was lucky because I had 3 hours of Youthline to sit through. I took the 9pm dose and headed to bed a couple of hours later, figuring I’d hop up in the morning and bob’s your uncle. Yeah, no.
An hour later I awoke to the sound of heavy machinery in our bedroom. Turns out it was my stomach, which scared the hell out of me. I hopped up and quickly realised that I looked like one of those malnourished ethiopian children on TV, only without the flies. My stomach was so swollen that I could probably have hidden a whole family of those children in there. I made my way to the bathroom surprisingly quickly, considering my size, and proceeded to exacuate my insides. The two small sachets of cordial had performed a miracle and had completely liquified the entire contents of my body. I was pretty pleased with myself and hopped back into bed feeling great.
For about 5 minutes. That was when the strange gurgling started. Shaun asked (in a very nervous sounding voice) what the hell it was and then pointed out that I had just taken the world’s longest piss. I informed him that there had been no pissing involved and listened to him gag for approximately 5 seconds before heading back to the bathroom.
This happened twice more before I moved out to the couch and resigned myself to the fact that it was going to be a long night.
At 6am Shaun hopped up. By this stage I was a shadow of my former self and was shaking so hard that one would be forgiven for thinking I was having a seizure. I read the packet of stuff that I’d consumed the previous day (which I should probably have done before the consuming occurred) and discovered that I had taken a drug designed to ‘completely evacuate the body in preparation for bowel or intestinal surgery’. Bloody hell. It felt like the surgery had actually taken place.
So this morning I headed to the clinic looking ghostly and sleep deprived. The ovary has turned up but the rest of the day is going to be spent not further than 2 metres from a bathroom.
Everything I put in my mouth falls straight back out the other end.