I come from a family that does not look well on discussing bodily functions. As in, it’s simply not done.

My friends in college knew this about me and knew I would cringe and correct them if the table-talk started to creep toward all things gross, not because of a squeamish tummy, but simply because it was so engrained in my brain that this is not what one discusses.

So maybe I’ve lost my mind a bit if I’m considering talking about what I’m considering talking about here, but for the love of the sweet mother of all things holy, there are some things in life a girl should know and knowledge doesn’t come from silence. That being said, I wonder if I can code talk my way through this so as to cover  my (the body part of which I’m speaking) a bit….

You see, something I did not know prior to my surgery on Monday is that pain pills stop not only the pain but also the most important bodily function possible (behind, I suppose, breathing and urination from proper hydration), especially when very little movement of the body is also part of the healing process.

How did I not know this? I’ve had four babies. I’ve taken pain pills at the hospital before (even though my births have been drug free, you can bet your sweet bippee I’ve gone for a bit of the good stuff afterwards!)! But only once has a doc sent them home with me and come to think of it, that is the one time I had the, um, hardest time recovering (un)said bodily functions.

I thought that was all birth-related, though, as I learned after my first baby to not give up the, um, Colace too soon because that only ends in difficulty for the mama. Side Note: when asked birthing advice from friends expecting their first child, this is seriously what I tell them (so I guess my Don’t Speak policy about bodily functions really only exists with my family, and mainly  my poor father who is probably ready to disown me at this point). I had no idea the pain pills were part of the problem.

So, lesson learned from my first surgery is this: for the love of the sweet mother of all things holy, TAKE SOME DAMN STOOL SOFTNERS ASAP AND CONTINUE THEM UNTIL YOUR BODY HEALS.

End of shouting, I promise. And so much for the code speak.

Since I didn’t know this lesson until it was too late, I’ve had a rough week. My nose is improving, yes, but I am still pretty well worn out from lack of sleep and all the mouth breathing while trying to sleep, but the last few days have been extra hard because my belly was slowly becoming extra hard and visibly full.

The realization of this, and ensuing semi-panic, began Wednesday, which was technically Day Three.

The trying all the things OTC and sending the hubs to the store for all the fibrous foods and natural digestive aids consumed Days Four and Five, as did the one gentle yoga pose I could manage (drawing one knee into the chest at a time while laying on the floor) for several minutes last night.

The actual shituation did not come to be until today, Day Six, and I kid you not, it was worse than childbirth without drugs. I could write a damn novel detailing this morning’s events but even with my loosened tongue (I blame motherhood of young children on this because no bodily function is either controlled or off limits when it comes to them), I still have some boundaries here on the blog.

So, my friends – if any of you are still brave enough to call me “friend” now that I’ve put this lovely gem out there for the world to see – should you ever find yourself faced with a medical procedure and pain medicine plus bed rest, for the love of the sweet mother of all things holy, TAKE SOME DAMN STOOL SOFTNERS ASAP AND CONTINUE THEM UNTIL YOUR BODY HEALS.

Because I didn’t, and then I couldn’t, and now I probably shouldn’t have done this either, but consider it my PSA for 2016.

May you never actually need this advice.