All of my life I've had bouts of constipation. When I was in the hospital at sixteen for a broken back (car accident, drunk ran a stop sign and broadsided our car), I wouldn't go in a bedpan. My sphincter muscle just clenched at the thought. I was given huge amounts of prune juice ("If this doesn't work, you're getting an enema"). It worked. When we went camping, I'd hold it until we got home. It wasn't conscious on my part, it just was.
And pain meds don't help move me along, either (one of the warnings is "may cause constipation"). So, the back hurts, I takes the pill and one pain stops, another one starts. Having the waste build up is not comfortable. Once my plumbing problem was resolved, another ensued. A plunger took care of that (my husband doesn't seem to understand that at fifty-nine years of age, I'm well acquainted with how to use a plunger - his input certainly didn't do anything for my mood).
Now I'm just dealing with the residual cramps, but there were none this morning so I think this latest is over with. I'm going to up my calcium intake, that aways seems to help. And my nails have been so brittle, never a problem before menopause. Calcium helps those, too.
So, this week I've been working on some St. Patrick's Day cards. I need to have them finished and out in the mail today. I'll take pictures.
I really need to go through the house with my bucket of vinegar water and rags and do some cleaning of the floors.
Brian's sick now. I wonder if maybe we'd caught a bug or something. Or maybe it's the stupid ass time change. I absolutely hate it.
Anyway, I need to get busy with the cards and while they dry (there's lots of glue involved, too much glue from the looks of it) I'll get down on my hands and knees and clean the worst pee spots.
Do you have any big plans for the day?