Jeepers Creepers

So typically a fart is pretty instantaneous in its delivery, right? As in, it comes out and if it's a stinker you're going to know immediately. But lately I've been having creeper farts. They come out seeming harmless enough, then a few minutes later BAM! Right up the nose!

I'm not sure what's the blame for this. I've continued to have stress diarrhea for going on two months now. I've checked in with my gastro, and though he gave me some medicine it didn't really help. I'm not puking and my appetite is strong as ever, but my bowels refuse to produce anything but muddy waters. Although not the poop I'd like to be producing, the pattern has been pretty consistent, whereas this sneaky fart phenomenon is a new development that's only been happening in the past week.

Just now I was feeling the need to let one out, and before I could scurry off to the bathroom I wound up letting loose into my desk chair. I was at first quite impressed with the lack of stench, thinking perhaps the chair had absorbed any malicious odor and yet, about three minutes later, I began to notice an undeniable stank wafting up around me. Hopefully the distance from my cubicle to my co-workers is amble diffusion space. This very thing has happened three times in the past five days, usually while I'm in bed and winding down for the night. I'll let one rip, tell J to brace himself, then tell him the coast is clear when I fail to smell anything. Then within five minutes he reels away from me, pissed off and asking why I didn't warn him about the second round in the chamber. I exasperatedly explain that there was no second round, only a delayed delivery from the first.

In other news...
J and I have decided to leave the city for a bit. We're taking at least a month to go to Vermont and have some family time and some post-fire healing. We've been incredibly lucky to have friends let us stay in their basement studio apartment for the past two months, but have not been so lucky in finding a new place of our own. The bottom line for me is that I don't really want to find a new place here. So as of next week we're off! May my mom's home cooking bring some peace to my bowels...

Ploptober Musings

Isn't it cute when animals poop? 

It's been a minute since my last post, thanks in part to full-time job, full-time school and part-time tv watching. Time for an update! I turned 30. It's astounding to think I've had IBD for 18 years (22 if you count when I began having symptoms but was never diagnosed). Two of my besties got me an enormous blueberry crumble for my birthday. It was delicious, but also turned my shit neon green which gave me a good scare the next day. Still, worth it.

I had a pretty challenging summer - my grandmother had open heart surgery (she's fine), my brother and I were in a three car collision (we're fine) and one of my beloved aunts passed away from lung cancer (not so fine). I spent a fair amount of time contemplating mortality, moreso than usual (I'm a pretty morbid person).  I was also reading Jim Beaver's memoir Life's That Way which chronicles his wife's losing battle with cancer and left me bawling on more than one occasion, but it was very cathartic and surprisingly uplifting. Check it out if you or a loved-one is facing terminal illness, or if you just happen to have mortality on the mind.

I had a few bouts of depression and anxiety here and there, especially after the car accident. J and I took a trip to the Poconos about two weeks after the fact, and I spent most of the three-hour drive clutching the "oh shit" handle above the passenger side door, and had a killer migraine by the time we arrived at our destination. But this all passed, as most bad things do, and come September I was back in classes and happily distracted by work.

Gut-wise I could be doing a smidge better. I've been really, really bad about caffeine intake, and have snuck in a little booze here and there. This wouldn't be so risky if I weren't also on a lower dose of Imuran than usual. My white cell count is not what it should be, so I've gone from 175mg to 100mg per day. There's been blood in the toilet here and there, but apparently my blood work is still less than ideal, so I'll stay at 100mg and start taking my cortifoam twice a day again. (I've been using it once daily for a few months now.) I'm pooping more than usual. I'd say I run the tap at the office bathroom nine times out of ten in an attempt to drown out my trumpeting anus, but I fear running the water might just be a placebo, as I can still hear co-workers talking and typing from my position on the pot and it stands to reason they can hear me farting over the water. Hopefully they all understand this sacred wisdom: Everybody Poops.


Image source: Flickriver.com

Stink Link

Here's a piece from io9.com that I just had to share. Happy Friday everyone!

In other news, I got myself a fine UTI the other day, which prompted my mother to inform me of the importance of urinating after intercourse. Thanks, mom.

Blogstipation

So now that I'm back on my feet (not 100% but still much more functional than I have been) and not struggling with any super-diets, I haven't had a whole lot to write about.  I've had some false starts and some ideas for little web videos but nothing that's actually inspired me to come on here and produce anything.  I realized I've been blogstipated, so here's a long rambling update for you to skim at your leisure.

I used to try to always post a picture of something that could be compared to my latest bowel movement, but nowadays my poohs are looking like Cadbury flake bars pretty consistently. I do have a lot of pics of my hair, like this one:

 And that was only one of the clogs in the sink!  That's some nastiness right there.  I'm just happy I have hair left on my head.  It's kind of nice that it's thinning out in time for summer, come to think of it.

I was home in Vermont for a week, making up for the Christmas visit I had to cancel due to my flare-up.  It was great because we got a good two feet of snow for about three days!  I hate cold weather, but since I had nothing to do but sit at home and be mommied it was a real treat and helped me feel like I'd gotten a proper winter fix. Of course, having no self-restraint I ate tons and tons of crap the whole time I was there.  Everything my mom cooked was delicious and quality, which should go without saying- but that didn't stop me from eating liverwurst sandwiches and chips and dip every day for lunch.

I was super depressed when I got back- happy to see J and the kitties, but really unhappy to be returning to a city I'm sick of.  I had a weepy few days last week, and I think I owe that not only to PMS but perhaps to some late-breaking Prednisone side-effects as well.  I had a blow-out with J, which didn't help (it's all resolved thankfully. It's a lot easier to end a fight with someone when you know they're just as committed to working shit out as you are) and then I watched "Lost" which didn't go well.  Whenever Hurley gets upset I get upset and last week something sad happened (I won't elaborate a- to avoid spoilers and b- in case you just don't care) and it had poor Hurley bawling his eyes out which got me on the waah-wagon as well.  After the sob-fests I finally remembered that mood-swings and emotional outbursts are a potential side-effect of the 'sone, and considering my hair only just started falling out I suppose it's not too late for other things to start up as well.  Lucky me!  I'm going to up my anti-depressant anyway.

I've admittedly been making terrible decision in terms of consumption- I was home sick on Friday after eating two frozen pizzas that kept me up all night puking.  I've also been drinking way too much caffeine, but eff it, I NEED that shit.  I was fine without it when I was all strung out on high doses of Prednisone, but now that the buzz has worn off I'm basically useless without some sort of stimulant and I've never been one for illegal uppers (downers on the other hand...Oh, I'm kidding!  I'm kind of kidding.).

So that's where I'm at.  Just kind of floating along like one of my fibrous turds.

Pooh Schmoozing at MoCCA(ca)

Last Sunday afternoon J and I went on a date to the Museum of Comic and Cartoon Art's annual comic book festival.  It was our first time at the convention of independent and underground comic artists. There was a fine selection of works to choose from, ranging from well-known publishers to hand-made, photocopied mini books. I won't pretend it wasn't more than a little awkward, since everyone there was trying to sell something. I kept my head down and pretended not to hear most exhibitors when they said "Hi." I felt (and continue to feel) like a rotten passive-aggressive bitch about it, but I needed to avoid buying more than I could afford.  Trust me, if I could've bought something from everyone I totally would have.

As we were strolling along J asked me, "Has anything here really caught your eye?  Like reached out to you specifically?" As I was shrugging with indifference I turned to my left and *BAM* there I saw it: The Diarrhea Diaries.  My eyes glazed over and my shrug became an enthusiastic nod as I broke away from him and went to voice my fondness for poop themes to the gentlemen tending the display table.

The Diarrhea Diaries is a 'zine-style trilogy, chronicling the fecal follies of one Phil Miarmi, who was working the convention floor in a Luchadore mask.  The guys I met at the table were illustrators Aaron DeLaRosa and James Cuartero, both of whom seemed genuinely surprised by (and, I'd like to think, appreciative of) my passion for pooh stories. Perhaps the best part of the work is that Miarmi does not have any diagnosed bowel problem.  In Issue #2 he surmises his numerous misadventures are "heavily related to poor decision making, (the) inability to properly judge (his) own body functions, and a sprinkle of laziness," proving indeed that not only does everybody  poop, everybody inevitably poops themselves. 

My personal favorite story "Oh Brother" comes from Issue #1, in which Miarmi takes so impressive a crap he demands his brother come see it.  I haven't acted on this impulse myself, but God knows I've wanted to gloat about more than a few of the beauties I've produced.

Surf your way over here and here for more info- I highly suggest buying the set for the chronic shitter in your life.