I Would Like To Buy A Bowel, Pat

  Here is an encore My Odd Sock I think you will enjoy!

 

What is with you MS people?  It’s always about your bowels or your bladder.  Bowel this.  Bladder that.  Bowel-Bladder.  Bladder-Bowel.  Give it a break already!

 

I wish I could.  And you probably agree.  But after 13 years  of shared bliss with multiple sclerosis, my bowel and bladder have become such an influential part of my life I carry their picture in my wallet!

Everyday my bowel and bladder taunt me, tease me and pick on me like two older brothers razing a younger sibling.

Believe me, I’ve experienced more “accidents” than a traffic cop!

The Ups and Downs

This is the favorite game my bowel likes to play.

First, my bowel gives me a tremendous urge to rush into the bathroom—like I am about to pass a ten-pound baby through my colon.  Then by the time I get comfortable, the urge passes.  So I get up and redress.  The urge returns.  I sit.  Urge retreats.  I get up.  And this game continues on and on.  

 

Needless to say, Suzanne Somers would be jealous of my “thighs of steel” all of this up & down exercise has developed.  I got thighs that would kick sand in Eric Heiden’s face!

 

Going Commando

For those unfamiliar with the term “going commando”, let me say it has absolutely nothing to do with our fine military.  Going commando is “sans underwear.”  Skivvy deficient.

Some folks choose to go Commando by choice.  Others, including myself, do it by accident.  Meaning I have an accident and must discard my dirty Underoos.

The 1st time it happened was first grade.  But it had nothing to do with MS.  It was just complete fear of asking my teacher, Mrs. Bickheart, to be excused.

 

So I filled my pants.

I remember my humiliation with that weighted-waggle in the back of my pants. 

So I sat down.  And sat in it for the rest of the day.  Poop-putty.  Ass-spackle.

It was the worst day of my young life.

Today, I have accidents because I can’t get to the bathroom fast enough.  You see, I have the foot-speed of a glacier!

The urge can strike like a rattlesnake, while the bite is more damaging to the ego than anything.

If an accident occurs at home there is no big deal—just grab a fresh pair of Joe Boxers and be on your way.  But if it happened at work?….Houston, we have a problem.  Many times I had to “go commando” and worry that clients and co-workers wouldn’t notice. 

If only my Dockers could talk—they would probably scream!

Again, humiliation 40 years later.

 

Maybe now you can understand why those of us with MS are so consumed with our bowels & bladders.  We really aren’t that fond of these vital organs, they simply control our every movement….Strike that–Poor word choice.  MSers have to keep close tabs of every nuance of our faculties.

How many times I have wanted to spin and say “I’d like to buy a bowel, Pat.”