![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Dear Bowels...
...Wow. Wow. It is now 2:14am. This shit started at about 8:30, 9 pm. Let's go through what you put me through, eh? For thoroughness sake!
- Cramps.
- More cramps.
- Nausea
- Cramps that are so strong that I felt like both passing out and vomiting.
- repeat ad nauseum.
I had a slight break between the unrelenting surges of cramping, in which I had cold sweats and faint spells. There was a moment where I thought I was going to faint. I had the toilet door open just in case I lost consciousness and fell on the floor.
I'm really impressed with the sneaky way it overcame me. Pain. Little pain. Growing pain. Pain reaching face. Then the screaming starts, cause that's all I can do at that point. Then my guts crush into tight knots and the unspeakable happens.
It's about this time I'm calling out for God.
I freaked my sister out. I freaked my cat out. We were wondering if I had to go to the Emergency room because the cramps weren't abating. I took a sedative which made me calm and sleepy as the TIDAL WAVE OF PAIN blasted through my bowels.
I was at a point where I was sagging on the toilet, unable to do anything but cramp. I was being held hostage by you, bowels. Cause even though there was nothing left in me, if I sat on the couch or in bed, the cramping would start up again and I would suddenly feel like I am suffering from the worst case of the runs imaginable. And I would run to the toilet, sit down and then very little would happen. It was like aftershocks of a horrible earthquake.
I never, ever want to feel that again. I realise I've been less than kind to you, bowel. I'm sorry my fibre levels have dropped, but my appetite suffered when I was depressed and then when I was sick and in pain. I will endeavour to drink more fluid and hold back on the codeine and the iron pills. At least until my Mum gets back and my diet improves.
You've won a mighty competition, bowel. Both my brain and my uterus battle it out in fierce competition to see who can bring me the most pain without killing me. Considering I was shouting, screaming, begging for God to stop the pain, literally, then I would say you won.
I am now shaky and messed up from the sedatives, as my body hates them now and acts weird whenever I ingest them. I am exhausted from the ordeal of passing my waste. I am wondering if this will happen to me again. I can only pray that it doesn't.
I'll make an effort to treat you better, bowel.
Yours,
Nancy.
...Wow. Wow. It is now 2:14am. This shit started at about 8:30, 9 pm. Let's go through what you put me through, eh? For thoroughness sake!
- Cramps.
- More cramps.
- Nausea
- Cramps that are so strong that I felt like both passing out and vomiting.
- repeat ad nauseum.
I had a slight break between the unrelenting surges of cramping, in which I had cold sweats and faint spells. There was a moment where I thought I was going to faint. I had the toilet door open just in case I lost consciousness and fell on the floor.
I'm really impressed with the sneaky way it overcame me. Pain. Little pain. Growing pain. Pain reaching face. Then the screaming starts, cause that's all I can do at that point. Then my guts crush into tight knots and the unspeakable happens.
It's about this time I'm calling out for God.
I freaked my sister out. I freaked my cat out. We were wondering if I had to go to the Emergency room because the cramps weren't abating. I took a sedative which made me calm and sleepy as the TIDAL WAVE OF PAIN blasted through my bowels.
I was at a point where I was sagging on the toilet, unable to do anything but cramp. I was being held hostage by you, bowels. Cause even though there was nothing left in me, if I sat on the couch or in bed, the cramping would start up again and I would suddenly feel like I am suffering from the worst case of the runs imaginable. And I would run to the toilet, sit down and then very little would happen. It was like aftershocks of a horrible earthquake.
I never, ever want to feel that again. I realise I've been less than kind to you, bowel. I'm sorry my fibre levels have dropped, but my appetite suffered when I was depressed and then when I was sick and in pain. I will endeavour to drink more fluid and hold back on the codeine and the iron pills. At least until my Mum gets back and my diet improves.
You've won a mighty competition, bowel. Both my brain and my uterus battle it out in fierce competition to see who can bring me the most pain without killing me. Considering I was shouting, screaming, begging for God to stop the pain, literally, then I would say you won.
I am now shaky and messed up from the sedatives, as my body hates them now and acts weird whenever I ingest them. I am exhausted from the ordeal of passing my waste. I am wondering if this will happen to me again. I can only pray that it doesn't.
I'll make an effort to treat you better, bowel.
Yours,
Nancy.
