Day 68 – Pooh! Shit! Crap! Its Faecal lodging!

I awoke to find Elvis standing over me and staring at me. I let out a woooowww I shat my pants I looked over to my alarm clock and it was 5.09am. “Dude get back to sleep” but oh no, he wanted to wrestle with me. I kissed and cuddled with him for a bit but he wanted to fight (Thanks to my brother who taught Elvis to box). So at 5.15am we ended up wrestling on my bed. This dog is a Jack Russell TERRORIST!!! I tried to get back to sleep but couldn’t so I decided to go get up and go to Bikram Yoga at 6.ooam. As I stood up I grabbed my vagina (I know I speak ever so eloquently) I got the sharpest pain across my lower abdo area and let out a little ahhhhhh and quickly sat back down on my bed. No, no, no yoga today. No Yoga for Reney.

Then I started to pant…is this what giving birth is like? I panted for a few minutes and thought come on get up Reney and over ride this pain. Don't be a pussy. I got up again and slowly hobbled to the bathroom. I sat on the loo panting, pant, pant, pant so I started to sing Tori Amos song “Silent all these years” from start to finish the entire song. Why Tori Amos? Why this song? I don’t know. I slowly forgot about the pain and laughed at myself. How hilarious. Thank God I live on my own because here I was sitting on the loo, singing on the top of my lungs a Tori Amos song at 5.30 in the morning.

Something unsavoury is going on with my bowel. I heated up some prune juice just before bed last night. Fucking putrid, fucking vile, fucking disgusting and left me dry retching for 5 minutes. I was tempted to put a shot of vodka in it to just make it taste better. There you go a new drink for you Andrew, vodka with heated up prune juice…hmmm tasty…NOT.

I ended up on my sofa this morning watching MTV and closing and opening my eyes. Drifting in and out of sleep. Then I got what I would say felt like what I would think a contraction would feel like and I raced to the dunny and let the obvious happen. I investigated bowel obstructions and twisted bowels a bit too much last night so slap me for being a geeky nerd and from what I can tell I reckon there is something stuck in there. I got up from the loo and a wave of nausea hit and I let out a huge vomit.

I read last night that if my bowel is obstructed and the pooh piles up and piles up with nowhere to go it can actually navigate itself the other way. Meaning I could spew shit. Oh the horror!! The horror!! Luckily it was just a spew nothing too major. But left me thinking if that was to happen would your spew taste and smell like pooh? Okay I’m feeling that wave of nausea come again so lets stop talking about pooh.

I had an appointment with Mr Wonderful Surgeon today. It’s been 4 weeks since my fill. I took mum with me today to my appointment and she had me in fits of laughter.

Ma: “Thet iz not your doctor iz it?
R: “Hmmmmm, mmmm he is hot isn’t he?”
Ma: “You craz-ee, he is very old, I like the Henry boyz you like better but hez have too much tattoos”
I proceeded to wet myself from laughter. My mum knows who Henry Rollins is. How fucking rad is that?

Sexy called me in …oops I mean Mr Wonderful Surgeon called me in and we discussed how everything was going and whether I wanted another fill. For once I said no to second helpings and told him I was fine with the amount I had in me. He laughed his head off and said that there were not many of us who were content with the amount of fill they had in them. I explained that I was working out a lot and he was most encouraging with my running, and my activities but he wanted my meals to become smaller in size.

We to and fro a bit and I told him that I felt I was fine, I was happy with my weight loss and really did not want another fill and if I had to have a fill I would do it but I wouldn’t be happy about it. I know my body. I know how little I have been eating. He gave me that “come hither” stare and said:
Doc: “ I haven’t come across many women like you who are this assertive.”
R: “And is that a bad thing Doc?”
Doc: “No, not at all but I am curious as to whether you have were this assertive pre surgery”
R: “I came out of my mother assertive Doc, but I see where this conversation is headed, you are wondering why someone so assertive let herself go like I did right?’
Doc: “Do you always answer a question with a question?"
R: “why do you ask?”
Doc: “hahaha, and there you go another question”
Ahh the glorious banter of doctor and patient.

I have lost another 2 kilos, which now brings me down to 105 kilos, which is a total of 5 kilos in a month, 15 kilos lost in total in 9 weeks. He then told me that I had the potential to have a body like Gina Lollobrigida and Sophia Loren, he tells me this every time I see him. Which always makes me laugh. So I googled both of them to get a better understanding on what he thinks I should achieve to look like.

They were both pretty hot tamales in their time, they have that sexiness, curviness, which I like, but I don’t want tits. I told him too, I said ‘Doc I am considering reducing my puppies, what do you think?’ Which I think embarrassed him when I described my girls as puppies He let out that nervous cough then he demanded that I get up, stand up! Which is how he speaks to me in a very authoritarian, commanding tone. In my head I was saying “Your wish is my command” and he started to tear me to bits (no Vicki J, no he didn’t tear my clothes off sadly) he made me realise the potential I have, he said look at how tiny your waist is, the curviness of my hips, the shape of my arse and blah, blah, blah

We then discussed my bowel and he made me lay down and had a good feel around. I was wishing “Go lower, lower, lower” and he pushed one bit of my abdomen and I let out an almighty FUCK!!!! He thinks that I have pooh stuck in my bowel, which is still allowing me to do pooh as it squeezes around this blockage. He ordered that I continue with prune juice, fibresure and a script for suppositories or as I like to call them butt plugs. I aint going there. Nah, nah I cant do it. I know I have said that I want to come back as a gay man but I am not emotionally ready to go butt plugging. Yes I know I am Greek and Greek girls lose their virginity from the rear end first, I've heard that all my life (That’s a fucking myth because I don’t know of any Greek girl who has copped it up the arse) I cant bring myself to using the butt plug... I can’t do it …yet. If no proper “hard” pooh by Thursday then I’m off for a colonoscopy.

I then came home and took Elvis for a little run. Don’t all yell at me as I hear you all saying “She’s fucking nuts” but I have to move so this pooh can come out of me. I’ve incubated that piece of shit for too long as it is. As I was saying, I only lasted 20 minutes running as it hurts when I run. So we ended up walking back in the wind, (How windy is it in Melbourne today??) and then I went into my garage and did some weights for 20 minutes. My bowel doesn’t hurt if I am sitting on my ball and lifting the weights but if I stand up and try to do my reps it hurts like a motherfucker and I cant straighten my back.

I want to thank everyone who left me a comment, emailed and rang me in relation to yesterday’s blog entry. Each and every one of you reiterated what I need to do and that is to let go of Gee and Satanic Bitch and surround myself with positive people. Thank you to all of you for helping me. You don’t know what it means to me.

Lastly to my brother John. Thanks dude for your beautiful message. I love you too very much and you too mean the world to me. BUT may I please have my Henry Rollins Get in The Van book back?

Please pray that this pooh dislodges itself, as I fear the butt plug.


Reney