Bonjour mes amis and again the warning of bad language and/or graphic details. Remember, curiousity causes offence so don't read if you are a little sensitive.
First and foremost I did not post yesterday as a mark of respect for the sad loss of Veronica. It just didn't seem right to have a giggle on the forum yesterday.
Someone asked for a story, so you have one. Get a cuppa. On Monday, a visionary ward doctor told me that she thought I had a blood clot as my right arm was swollen. I don't know what she was on to cause the vision but of course the scan was clear. Perhaps she had been at the morphine in the store cupboard. It must be a temptation sometimes. My own morphine fairies and pixies continue to cause havoc and mayhem. Yesterday morning they decided to spill the contents of my cream bag onto the floor whilst the nurse was changing my port needle. There was this dreadful smell of FISH!! Of course I assumed it was me since I'm rotting away from the inside out. The spreading carpet of liquid, which I've dreamed of being rich cream all this time, was now leaving it's foul stink everywhere, but mostly in our lungs. At least we have discovered the Source of the Vile. (Couldn't resist that one, sorry). Previous occupants must have been on the same regime. I swear the stuff is oozing through my skin now. After a shower I still smell like a herring - and it ain't pleasant. No movement in the nether regions either so I was taken away for an X-ray.
As I had been on 24/7 morphine since the weekend, the journey was quite bizarre. I had the strangest feeling that the lift was Willy Wonka's and that we were going to burst out of the roof at any moment. After the X-ray I ignored the wheelchair and wandered off instead of waiting for my armed escort back to the ward and found myself outside in the car park. Sunshine and trees. Lovely. Eventually I made it back, much to the relief of the porter who had been sent to collect me and saw only an empty wheelchair in an empty corridor. I'm sure they were giving me too much morphine. I am a lightweight where drugs are concerned. Still, whilst I was away the fairies and pixies had painted the walls sparkly green, with zigzags. I preferred the pink. I slept.
I was awoken by Dr Z. A lovely lady oncologist of about 12 years old who comes no further up than my chest - and I'm only 5ft 3ins. Here, all senior medics wear long white coats and this poor wee thing has one which reaches the floor. As she weighs so little and stands so small, the coat engulfs her and she reminds me of the old fashioned loo pull chain handles we used to have. She just seems to glide along without touching the floor. She has very limited English but insists on using it. More's the pity. I see her sometimes at the chemo clinic and it's the same problem. She said that my X-ray shows a blockage where, "Little bowl joins big bowl, here (pointing lower right side). And here in bowl, (pointing lower left side) there is big fœtus but you are not in danger". What? Not in danger? There's a large fœtus in me and my husband's had a vascectomy, of course I'm in danger. I knew what she meant so explained her error and we just laughed about it. Phew. Still, I wonder what colour hair it may have had and whether it would look like me or himself. Would he/she have been a doctor? Shut up Kryssy.
Dr Z decided that it was time to introduce some explosives. She had ordered a tanker of nitroglycerine and they were going to get all the muck out one way or the other. One half glass of clear thick liquid appeared and I was told to drink it slowly over 5 minutes. Oui. One hour later nothing. A full glass appeared and I was told to drink it quickly. Oui. I went for a walk. Nothing. After another two hours Nurse Brillo brought in a couple of packets and mixed them with water in front of me like a bleeding cocktail. No cherry on a stick though. Not even a paper umbrella. Told to drink this quickly and to "be ready". I went for another walk and decided it best to stay away from naked flames as if predictions were right, when I exploded I would be taking half of the good citizens of Limoges with me.
By the time I got back to Stalag 3001 I had christened my bowel Winnie the Poop and the small intestines The Wind in the Pillows. I spoke to them nicely and begged them to do their best. At some point soon after they converged and I had the first movement of what was going to be a very long played out symphony. Several passes of cacti later, and many swear words, some of which haven't been invented yet, and the pain subsided and I was able to crawl back to bed. I was fearing the dreaded raspberry flavoured liquid paraffin from last year and how it spontaneously leaked out the same way as it went in. It was etched on my memory - and much of my underwear. So, big knickers went on and I was ready for the night, but Nurse Brillo has assured me that there was no liquid paraffin in the mix. Dr Z said that I have the right attitude. What's that then? Madness?
I spent the evening watching The Vicar of Dibley back to back. I laughed so much that it shifted some more Winnie and hopefully some blockage from the other side too. My boys are delighted. That's the weirdest thing to write. My boys are actually thrilled that their mother has been able to have a shit. Life can be the funniest place sometimes.
There were a whole lot of new faces on the night shift last night - another weird beard too. A lovely nurse whose just returned from holiday all tanned. I look like a corpse in comparison. She wants to see my next Winnie to assess how much is there. Jeez, what a job.
Update on today. On my morning walk - 7.30am through a deserted hospital - I was caught out and had to nip in the public loo for a Winnie. No chance of having it assessed so I must wait for the next one. No lookie at poopie - no foodie. As if I'd lie about it. Had a really bad night of Wind in the Pillows so went back on morphine again. Weirdness overcame me but sleep didn't. Have been asleep for most of the day today. Tonight they are giving me sleeping pills. At last!! When I woke up this afternoon there was a horrible dark monster in the corner staring at me. But it was only hubby. He'd come for a visit but didn't want to disturb me. I would like to say that he frightened the shit out of me, but it didn't happen. So we continue to wait.
A bientôt mes copains et bon courage.
Kryssy xxxxxx
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Kryssy
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As I’m reading this the girl from the Nimble ad of yesteryear pooped- sorry popped into my head 😜 along with the soundtrack she flies like a bird in the sky...........
Well hun it’s a start isn’t it? Reducing the morphine will help your bowels too, my husband nearly died a few years ago due to a sized bowel caused by the stuff...although I have to say I quite enjoyed the level of sleep I had when I had it a couple of years ago for something completely unrelated to my current predicament.
So, assuming the jollop works and the bowels evacuate you might expect a few morsels of lovely hospital food!
With luck you might be home soon...fingers crossed for that 🤞🏻🤞🏻🤞🏻
Hi Joy. Thank you for that and so pleased you didn't lose hubby. Yes, I'm sleepy all time. Just wish it wasn't during the day and I was wide awake at night. You keep well and look forward to hearing from you and getting out of here soon. xxxx
😂😂😂😂 Oh sweetie you make me laugh so much 😊 at least you have finally had a shit 💩 or two! Hopefully that’ll be the start of you being able to go home!! Hopefully you’ll be more comfortable now too! Explosives sound like a good idea 😂😂 xxx
Hello my sweet. Weird how we talk so much and so openly about the smelly brown stuff. Never in my life etc etc. Had some more jollop before I fell asleep but nothing occurs. Not even a windy roll. Daren't go for my walk in case I get caught out again - although I could always photograph the evidence - or bring it back with me wrapped in a tidy paper parcel..... No, let's not go there. Two more sleeps for a certain special person. Have you got anything exciting planned? xxxxx
We’re taking her to Bath for the day, gonna drive up, she’s gonna have cake tomorrow as it’s an early start on Saturday. Probably do her birthday presents tomorrow evening save time Saturday morning xxxxx
Thank goodness for your posts Kryssy.... who else could write so hilariously about poop evacuation... do you not get to sit on the all too graphic cardboard bed pans over the loo to catch all the visual graphic whoopy doo explosions...?
So they attacked from above rather than below with the favoured French way of enemas - thought that was the answer to everything.
Hello my lovely. No, enema didn't get a mention at all. Rather pleased really. Didn't fancy getting pumped up like some old car tyre. Guess I just have to wait, and wait, and wait...... love to you Janet. xxxxx
Yes, absolutely loved reading this latest update. Looking good for next week, I hope. You can take steroids anywhere. You don't have to be in hospital but it will all depend on the feeding tubes no doubt. Good luck and fingers crossed. Gina xx
This did make me laugh - when our cows were bunged vet told us to give it caffeine so maybe ditch the morphine and potions for a jar of high roast - you won’t care how you’re feeling once that caffeine hits x
D'you know - I'm not such a big coffee drinker but for the last few days I have absolutely ached for a huge milky coffee with sprinkles on top. I can sort of taste it. I thought it would be a nice cuppa that I'd miss the most. I have heard that some of the girls here swear by coffee to get things moving. Maybe not long now. xxxxx
Hello Chrissy I have absolutely no idea how you manage to see the funny side, but I thank you for the smile on my face! I just hope that I manage to maintain such composure and sense of humour. I hope they get Winnie the poo and wind in the willows sorted out very soon. Take care. Lyn x
To be honest, if I didn't laugh at myself then I think I would go mad. Mind you, I'm probably already mad and just in the latter stages of complete insanity. xxxxx
You really made me laugh. But why, oh why are they filling your veins with liquid fish? That is just plain wrong on so many levels. No wonder you're going mad!
Good question. Reading the 1,400 calorie ingredients list it seems to contain every known vitamin and mineral known to man all contained in a soya mix. So I suppose there's fish oil in there somewhere. The yellow bag is amino acids but I don't know what that smells like as the naughty pixies and fairies left that one alone. It seems to do the trick as I don't really feel hungry and I haven't lost any weight - don't think I have anyway. They take sugar levels regularly as it's very high in sugar. Always a downside. xxxx
That makes sense. Being Norwegian, I should probably enjoy the sweet, enchanting smell of fish oil. But no, it makes me nauseous.
But the important thing is that those bags do their job, so I'm happy to hear you haven't lost any weight. Hope you feel better soon, and that you haven't developed a fish bag addiction. Those would be difficult to smuggle home in your coat pocket.
Just wanted to quickly post how much I enjoy your posts. Not your predicament. Obviously. This latest one reminds me of my own post op and hospital staffs obsession with bowel movement. Honestly, by the time it happened for me, I was expecting fireworks and an award from them. Glad to hear Winnie's made an appearance and all the best for further improvement. Hang in there x
Oh Kryssy, I’m so sorry for all you are enduring but your turn of phrase has literally had me in stitches. Hope Winnie visits often and wind in the pillows gives it a rest tonight xxx
Dear Kryssy. Your are a tonic. Wish you weren’t going through the mill at the moment but I’m so glad to read your hilarious posts and thank goodness we can talk openly (and make fun of) our bl**dy bowels and all the brown stuff. The whole process can become an obsession when it is messed up by OC so thank you for making me laugh. Love Jo 🌺🌼🌸🌻🌹
Brilliant Kryssy I love your posts so much they have me crying with laughter! So hope Winnie the Pooh issues forth the foetus soon and it’s a healthy weight and is delivered without much discomfort! Although if I were you I’d have some soothing cream to hand just in case x
Have you thought of any names for the fruit of your loins yet lol?
I so hope you deliver the poop baby soon and can start to get back onto hospital food rather than IV fish oil, that really does sound yuk! Keeping everything crossed for you that you have a good poop birth and can escape the mad house soon
Morning Bev. I'm expecting great things of the little one today. Birth day would be nice . Decided that the name is Connard. Sounds inoffensive enough, unless you look it up. It's the way I feel about it - can't seem to bond for some reason - and it will the place of delivery but straight into its watery grave. Its nickname, obviously, is Plop. xxx
Blimey lovely - at least it looks Winnie is on the move! Can you take your phone to photo Winnie rather than looking for a nurse with a strange beard to look at it?
I’ve got all things crossed for you - make sure all of yours are uncrossed - and look forward to the next chapter in the Winnie and Windy Saga.
Good morning my s.s. I suggested a photo in case I'm on my walk and it's a definite non. What? I'm going to photograph someone's shit and pass it off as my own am I? It's like a James Bond film... "We can't confirm that this is your poop, 007. M wants a DNA test. Bend over love". Can you see me going around all the rooms hijaking the bedpans? Don't start my imagination off this early or it will spiral out of control before breakfast, except there's never any breakfast. I'm chilling until it's here. I could take a photo and send you a copy if you like. With or without flag? Which would you prefer.
Bev suggested I name the foetus. It's Connard. xxxx
More like Peter Sellers as Inspector Clouseau! Watch out for Cato jumping out from behind the toilet door - “Not now Cato!”. That would stop the little Connard in its track!
Apologies to younger readers who may have no idea what I’m talking about!
I hope we don’t get struck off for using French expletives and for being members of the SS!
Thinking of you, will batten down the hatches in case of Tsunami (the storm we have just had here was called Storm Ali - comments have been passed!)
He he he. I was not going to join the storm Ali campaign, although it was tempting. I should think that by now Admin has given up with us. None of the members have complained - as far as I know - and I do give warnings.
I read LA's post before yours as I'm going backwards and now I'm sad and fearful for her. She has suffered so much these last months and I know how much she hates how she looks. I hope she doesn't give up. I don't pray but I will think hard for her and keep her in my heart. I hope all the other girls do too. The power of thought can do strange things.
I too have LA on my mind - I don’t pray either, but I send positive thoughts to her and to you and to all women who are experiencing difficult times at the moment.
I feel it’s important that you exercise your sense of humour when you can - you brighten our days. Laughter is a pretty good medicine after all.
Ah ha so Madame Kryssy is feeling better as her sense of humour has returned. Nice to hear you’re back in the out house trying to be productive. Have you thought about crumbling the cookie for a bit of moving things along?
I needed cheering up. Well done that girl keep up the good work.
Good morning my special one. Lovely to hear from you too. Crumble the cookie? You have perplexed me. Explain to this thick twit if you would be so kind. Are you feeling ok? Working towards the day I come to see you. Won't be long now. Have the men in white coats on standby for me love and hugs xxxxx
Having a really bad week, going to post later not sure the clock is ticking in my favour now
Crumbling the cookie is intimate behaviour (sex) lol it’s an expression I used a few years ago in a novel I wrote. I dig out these little gems now and then lol
Well, there's no hope for me then. I Googled it and all I can find is Breadcrumbing. Am I thick or what? You'll have to decide for yourself.
Now to be serious....
Please don't say you think that time is running out. We can't let that happen. It is so not fair. I've replied to everyone's messages from the bottom up today and now I don't feel as if I should have been so flippant when your sad message was waiting here for me. It looks as if I carried on with my humour after reading this. I didn't.
We all get the bad weeks, no matter what stage we are at, but we all have it in us to hang on for just a bit longer if we want to. I'm sure of it. Please don't give up yet LA. There's another day tomorrow and I hope it is a better one for you my darling.
Hi Keyssy, Sorry to read your still in hospital but i did find your post hilarious, I admire your ability to see the funny side. I hope thing move quickly and you can go home .
Hi Lorraine. How is your morale holding up? I hope you can find something to lift your spirits and make you smile often. It's the best medicine in the world. Madness helps too. I've got plenty to share if you need any. Big love xxxxx
My eyelids. That's about it. No wind or anything. The right side blockage has moved into the centre of the cross bit. Clearly felt. It's going to get massaged into submission shortly. The left one has clearly diminished as it's not sticking out so much. Perhaps it was twins and one has sailed away yesterday. Today ALL comes out. I am determined. I'll have a wee and get the heat pad and massage going. Brilliant sleep. Pills at last. Minimal pain. Spirits high. The perfect day for the birth. Hang on Connard, Mumsie's coming to get you. Xxxx
Jeez! Helen. I thought he might be just a big lump. Now you've got me imagining a great twisting stinking serpent slithering along there. Nah, you're alright. I'm not that crazy. Had my shower, had my cocktail, just sitting with heat pad tucked around my tum and having a massage in-between reading your posts. Something's gotta give soon. I'll send a Tsunami warning out if it happens. Hope you have a nearby hill to go to. xxxxxx
Oh Kryssy, I was almost wetting myself reading this and I know it’s not really funny but you’re right, if we don’t laugh we cry. Coffee helped get things going for me, also walking about as much as poss. And the sodium docusate & senna tablets of course which I am still taking now. I’m now on all liquid diet at home so strained soups, yogurt, milkshakes, custard ....you get the gist. Everything with Fibre is out!
It’s the opposite of the so called healthy diet full of fibre and veg that we spend most of life trying to follow!
Hang in there lovely and hope the Winnie evacuates soon and you have an escape date.
Hi Madeline. Don't go wetting yourself darling, you'll get locked up like me. I'm concerned that my diet will change for the worst. I've always been a healthy eater - that's why I got cancer, right? I've asked to see the dietician to get the full SP as a life of white bread isn't looking favourable right now. As you say, it goes against everything we've ever been told. Time will tell. Love and hugs xxxx
I nearly wet myself .. funny really as normally do ..I love your notes and only you could make our illness !!! Sound funny 😁😁😂😂😂😂😂. Bless you and thank you Im sure many here agree ..love ya 😁😁x
My head swelleth with all this praise. Thank you, but Im happy when I see other people smile and be happy. I like to make people smile, especially those that are suffering and are sad and I don't mind poking fun at myself as my life usually takes a funny turn at least once a day. Laughter is good for the soul, they say. That'll do me. xxxx
Its so early here in NY Kryssy and my favorite time to be alone and read and write (before anyone is awake) and I started with your post and laughed out loud on at least three occasions and with all you have going on, it is amazing (and most likely quite good) that you keep this level of humor, that on morphine you can write this amazingly well, and no small part of this--you seem to be getting better and hoping the next steps are food and home! No doubt they will continue to "measure or weigh" what comes out of you to let you go home but it seems you will comply! (After Frontline, the team would walk in to ask FIRST THING if I had a poo or some wind--every day with a hospital mate and her family on the other side of the room!) When my father was on morphine in the hospital he would yell on top of his lungs at me (a mostly docile man) that I was about to walk straight into a glass wall if I kept walking out of his room and then he would be grasping at butterflies that weren't there--all while sounding quite astute and bright as he was. Doc kept saying it was the morphine. Sounds like hallucinating is just part of it. To each, his or her own kind of hallucinating --yours is quite entertaining.
Really tough--thinking of you, wishing you luck getting out of there soon and with no pain or at least so much less the morphine won't be necessary upon release. oxoxoxox Judy
Ah, bless your pappy, Judy. I agree that morphine can be quite fun, especially if you've an imagination like mine to start with. All logic leaves by the back door. I rather miss that lightness of the mind now but at least I can walk straight again. Bouncing off walls is not a good look, unless you are in the pub. Everything is still funny to me though. Always will be I'm afraid. I've always had a screw loose and just see humour everywhere. It has to be directed at me if it's illness related etc. I could never laugh about someone else's sadness. That is cruelty and I don't do that. Then it's only funny if the other person instigates it themselves. As many do in my experience.
I'm waiting for the second coming of the day. Nothing so far. X-ray after lunch. Nothing happens during lunch. All the patients go into a limbo state and don't require any nursing or emergency service. It's amazing. Don't know how they do it.
What are you like?! Your humour is amazing and your description of a seemingly psychedelic and difficult time involving floating midgets makes the whole thing movie worthy, maybe Mr Tarantino would be interested? I’m glad 💩 made its eventual appearance and hope it continues to do so on a more regular and convenient timescale and especially without the need for dynamite.
It’s amazing how our bodily functions can take over the sometimes humdrum daily routine and how obsessive we become with stools, wind and pee 😂. I was nearly 2 weeks post op before I managed anything other than the malodorous fuel 💨 for my kite, the threat of an NG tube together with suitably placed explosives caused all sorts of reflex bodily reactions which eventually had the desired effect. Amazing what scaring people can do, I’m sorry your hubby couldn’t muster enough scaring tactics to have more of the desired effects for you though.
I imagine there’s a new folklore in your area about the mystery english lady who, when high, leaves ‘presents’ at random times in public toilets then wanders off in the direction of the hospital, having used the old fashioned stand up and beg French toilets in Brittany, I imagine it could be an interesting spectacle too 😂.
I hope you have slept well without pixies, gremlins and pink stars and are able to get some well deserved rest.
Keep regaling us with your antics, I just love your narrative. Big hugs and lots of love from over the water ❤️Xx Jane
Ah, the great french toilet debate. They never did seem to get it right. Virtually every time I'm driving along there's a guy pissing at the side of his car, or playing with his plonker just for the fun of it. No dignity. I always honk the horn, unless hubby is with me, and hope that he ruins his shoes. We don't get that luxury. It's stinging nettles up the jacksie and a desperate search for a reasonably sized leaf so we don't have to drip dry - praying that a squad of minute caterpillars are not in residence on it. That's if there's a suitable bush to conceal our embarrassment. I did perfect the footplate squat. Leaving the car door open and shielding me from the sight of oncoming traffic, squat precariously on the footplate - feet on the ground outside the car of course - with back half of buttocks as a balance but with pee tube hanging free in the air - well, it doesn't exactly hang free as that would make me weird. Then, so long as the pee comes out straight I don't get wet shoes or lots of splashback. To any passing motorist I'm just sitting (low) in the car doing nothing in particular. Works a treat. I carry a loo roll in the car now. My random tissue droppings can probably be seen from space.
There has been a minor passing but it didn't pass inspection. They want more. Went for a long walk. It only encapsulated the small stalag which is my prison but I went around several times. Returned and nothing so far. Heatpad on again. I passed a window which wasn't frosted over and was surprised to see that it is raining. No-one told me. My own window is one large square of white today so I guess no blue sky should have been on my radar.
When this flipping Connard is finally born there will be celebrations in the crazy house. But, I don't fancy being the one who has to smack his bottom and there certainly isn't any hope of bonding. xxxxx
You made me laugh and cry at the same time this morning when I read your first post after a sleepless night. I love your descriptions and your sense of humor through all of this . I hope and pray that this horrible little alien inside you gets blasted off to outer space very soon. Don’t worry if a lot of people get browned off by it all as you can just get back to your real job of entertaining us all. Take care and keep smiling. We need you.
Hi Kryssy. I am just thinking of you and LilyAnn and marvelling at the humour and care that is shown. What an amazing community we have! Yes, your posts made me laugh and cry, laughing with your brilliant humour and crying because, one way or another, we’re all in the same boat. I tend to pick up all the posts late, so I am fervently hoping that you have produced a satisfactory delivery by the time you read this. Sending a big hug and much love Carolyn xx
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In hospice now
Never any good news from me
Update on Mum 71 after emergency bowel removal last Tuesday
