My Husband is a Freakin' Genius.

WARNING: If you are one of those who cannot even think about bodily functions without having a case of the vapors, do not read any further.  

I take medication for my blood pressure. I've been on it since 2003, when I had my miscarriage due to pre eclampsia.  I took it throughout my next pregnancy, and I've continued to take that orange pill every day since, to keep my blood pressure somewhere around normal.  Medication keeps me from the ER, which is a definite plus. 

There are side effects, however.  Most medication side effects are relatively easy to deal with, and many go away after a few days or weeks.  The side effect that I have to deal with is constipation.  I try to keep enough fiber in my system. I try to eat enough fruits and veggies.  I drink enough water to fill a tank at SeaWorld. I try to walk as much as possible.  Most of the time, everything moves along just fine.

Until it doesn't. 

Then everything just...stops.  Stuck.  Silent.  Nothing moves, not even a gas bubble.  It's like my insides have become an Old West ghost town, with only the random tumbleweed blowing through. The gut is not meant to halt in such a manner.  It is not a great feeling, and of course it affects your mood.  I get a little bit cranky, but I try to be pleasant.  I tell myself that this too shall pass, and I try to go on through my day, no matter how uncomfortable.

A couple of days like this, and I feel as if I am carrying one of those FIAT cars in my belly. This feeling does nothing to improve one's mood.  I am definitely snippy to those around me, as my anxiety about my condition begins to rise.  I start to imagine the worst possible health scenarios, and I get to feeling just pitiful about the fact that 'nobody understands' what I am going through. I've burst into tears, angry that I am wallowing in my own self-pity.  People around me are confused by my outbursts, and I certainly don't blame them.   

 There are people who have no problem going on and on about their colons, sometimes even whipping out full color pictures of their latest colonoscopy without blinking.  I was raised not to speak of health issues, so often not a soul knows of my 'stoppage' issue.  It's just not done in my family; most of the time we don't even know what's on the death certificate.  I wouldn't dream of doing such a heinous thing as springing a discussion of the colon on another living person. So I keep it all to myself, pardon the pun.

I could take laxatives.  I know that. There are tons of laxatives on the market. I could pop a couple of pills and be right as rain the next day.  I don't want to do that.  Did you know that you can become addicted to laxatives?  I don't want to rely on pills to poop. I would rather use natural methods to solve the issue than chemicals.  I imagine that soon enough, I'll have a shelf full of medications, as I get older, but for right now I'm trying to keep the drugs at a minimum.

Four or five days of constipation, and I don't want to eat. I don't want to drink. I don't want to move. I just want to lay where ever I happen to beach myself, bloated, and wait for the vultures to start circulating over my head.  I snap at random passerby, hoping they will put me out of my misery.  That's where I was, a few weeks ago, and finally my husband had had enough.  Just because he signed on for the "Or Worse" part, doesn't mean that he has to take it gracefully. 

"What the heck is wrong with you" he snapped at me.  "You're acting like a 90-year-old man who forgot to eat his prunes."

Prunes?

It was like the heavens opened and the angels sang inside my head.  Prunes.  The perfect fruit for getting rid of my problem!  The one fruit that I hadn't tried!  My husband is a freakin' genius!  My mood much improved, I rolled myself out to my car and to the store.  I purchased prunes, brought them home, and ate them. 

And balance was once again restored.