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TIFU by eating chocolate covered pretzels

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TIFU by thinking I had adequate reading comprehension skills

We are now at hour 14 and I can say that this would have sucked in any situation.

I am sick. Confirming cancer diagnosis by trying to find the location of what is killing me. Dropped 60lbs in 2 weeks. A myriad of other symptoms that could be the new thing or my vEDs or my POTS or...

So, the next cancer location to rule out is bowel. A colonoscopy for those who have not enjoyed this treat.

As it has been through this whole experience, I have to hurry TF up just so I can wait for more testing. The lack of urgency surrounding my condition is frightening. But, I digress.

Last week, my skeletal frame was at 97lbs. I ballooned up so badly that I looked more pregnant than when I had actually been pregnant. I went from gaunt to delivery room.

A quick message to my doctor told me this was NOT concerning and to try a gentle stimulant laxative. They were already calling in Golytle (A half gallon of pure hell-inducing liquid you are expected to drink the day before a colonoscopy) to the pharmacy and I still needed to do that, but my procedure wasn't until 7/28, so, I should try Dulcolax in the mean time. 15mg. Full adult dose.

That asshole. My asshole.

The box says, "Trust Dulcolax tablets to relieve constipation in 6 to 12 hours".

I read that as, "Hey! We are so sorry that you are bloated and full of noxious gas and unable to find any relief. In no less than 6, but no more than 12 hours, you are going to have an obnoxiously foul smelling BM that will end this tyranny".

I can cheerfully say that I have never been more wrong in my life. I took those pills at 7pm last night. Around my 11pm bedtime, I was a little disappointed that I was still a grouchy and fit-to-burst swamp witch with a poop tumor. Those were the glory days, my friends. I should have known I was in the good days and reveled in my innocence.

Around midnight, it hit. Around 4am I crawled out of the bathroom to grab a drink because I was so dehydrated my POTS was in full swing and I was passing out when I stood up between rounds. Around 7am the dogs let me know that they now needed to use the restroom and I needed to take them out post haste.

Hurricane Borracho has finally passed. Well, the full effects of the storm have petered out, and I'm now just dealing with scattered showers.

There's no moral. There isn't even a life lesson. Just be grateful for any sleep you got last night, and thank your asshole. It does a lot for you and deserves your respect and gratitude.

TL:DR: Was promised gentle relief in 6 hours. Endured 8 hours of an Apoopcalypse.

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