Mid afternoon of my first day after surgery, my much beloved choir peeps came for a visit (you guys rock!). It was a GREAT break from the total blur and haze of what the previous 24 hours had been (I also had a visit from my friend Chris, who brought me GOBS of the most AMAZING chocolate! Yum yum!) Now, trapping 4 choir peeps and a Grace in a room for too long, and inevitably, the issue of taking a walk to explore is gonna come up, and hence my 2nd adventure out of bed. I called the nurse to get unplugged from my 463 machines and extending 572 wires. This walk was mostly uneventful, although we did get shushed by several nurses (Come on, we're choir folk. We don't do quiet.) The end of this walk, was much more eventful than the first.
One of the main reasons they want you to be walking is because it helps your body to start get things moving along. So, before crawling back into bed, the urge for my first potty visit came. Under normal circumstances, this shouldn't be a big deal, right? I didn't think so, until I realized the hospital's floor plan was purposefully designed to promote the highest level of embarrassment for patients who have visitors. First, they have two little rooms, well, booths really, one for the shower, and one for the toilet. Both are designed for either very petite asians, children, and/or little people. So imagine my less than petite body, still not able to stand fully upright, hauling an IV pole while keeping the back of my gown closed from giving the choir peeps a view they'll never forget, trying to maneuver, all while having to pee (damn those nurses and their fluid push!) I'll be honest, a porta potty is bigger. Now imagine the pressure of having your first pee in a porta potty with your friends about 4ft away, all listening and formulating humorous jokes in their music addled brains.
The blessed event happened without incident, until I went to stand up and the most wonderous sound erupted from my nether cheeks. It was a veritable thunderclap that echoed grandly around the tiny booth of the toilet room, and judging by the guffaws coming from outside, said echo was also heard beyond my four tiny walls. Now, let me back up a bit, and explain a little more about the awesome force and power of this fart. GoLytely has a wonderful way of emptying the bowels, so that all that is left is air. Surgery and the subsequent food I ate lead to a tremendous build up of gas, which, up until that point had been held stagnant in my belly. Ironically, walking helps your body to not only get things moving with the kidneys, but it naturally pushes gas out. Great. Just great. I survived the embarrassment, and made my way back to bed, secretly thrilled to death to have some of that gas and pressure released. Fortunately, my beloved comrades have had the grace to not mention it again (because we all know I wouldn't be so generous! lol!)
As the day wore on, my continued discomfort with the gas was beginning to reach epic levels. The pressure was forcing my intestines to push on my freshly operated on ligaments & tendons, to the point of pain surpassing the ibuprofen, vicodin AND morphine. Yet, try as I might, nothing was happening, no matter how I shifted in the bed. I complained to the nurse, hoping for some gas-x or tums or something to settle things down. She grinned the most devilish and evil grin a human being can muster and said, the best way to do it is to get up and walk. Wonderful. So, in an effort to get things moving as quickly as possible (seriously folks, extreme gas post op is AWFUL! Worse than bad chili gas.), I was off to my 3rd walk. 10 minutes later of shuffling up and down the halls with my IV pole, I felt a change. A wonderful, powerful warning to my brain that if I don't get back to my room ASAP there's gonna be a problem, followed swiftly by fully body blush of embarrassment. I made it to my room, and, if possible, an even louder Zeus-like thundering erupted than earlier with my friends. I was bent over the bed and was powerless to do anything but allow my body to just let go.
Now, I'm sure at this point, you're wishing I'd stop giving details, but honest to god, you know you're secretly chuckling. Fart stories make you laugh. ADMIT IT! Now, if sound of said fart wasn't so prodigiously loud, the length and duration is what made it truly something to remember. Now, for those of you not in the know, human intestines are roughly 24.5 feet long. Imagine, dear reader, the sound of 24.5 feet of pent up gas being released through a relatively small sphincter. Exactly. That's how profound this fart was. I actually felt my stomach deflating from the pressure release like a balloon. Oh such glories! Such joy! Seriously, this felt better than sex. Better than Ben & Jerry's. Better than sex with Ben & Jerry's.
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