Hip Hip Poohray!

I did it! I finally took a poop that wasn't diarrhea! It still wasn't quite "normal" but it didn't sound or feel like pee, so that's a huge improvement. I credit the iron pills I started taking yesterday when I got my blood test results, which reported low hemoglobin (anemia). Iron can cause constipation, which is a good thing for someone like me.

Poop Factory

(Video NSFW)

The good news is I'm back to pooping like a champ - the bad news is I'm running my poop factory on the night shift and it's really messing with my ability to get back to the day job. I've been lucky enough that they've let me sign on from home to help get some work done, but the problem is that I'm so tired and twisted from pooping like a machine that I find myself being flighty and making embarrassing mistakes, which bring on the darker side of the prednisone mood swings, depression and paralyzing anxiety. My daily schedule is basically toss and turn and poop all night, fall asleep around 7am, get up to poop and take prilosec around 8:30, fall back to sleep until around 10, take the first round of prednisone, try to wake up and eat something, slump around like a loser, take the second dose of prednisone around 12:30, and slump around like a loser some more.

I was honestly looking forward to being on a course of prednisone right now. The last time I took it it make me hyper-productive, and I was hoping to have a similar experience this time around considering I'm in the final two weeks of my semester. Unfortunately I'm thusfar only more disorganized and unmotivated than ever and it's making me rather disgusted with myself. I have so much I can be doing while I sit at home healing my body, but instead I just watch the time go by, waiting for tomorrow and hoping it'll be better than today. Tonight I'm going to try to take something to help me sleep with the intention of getting to work for at least a half day tomorrow. I'll probably be pissed off and miserable the whole time I'm there, but at least I'll be out of the apartment.

Poop attack!

My love for io9.com grows with each and every story they post that involves poop. Above,"A 1793 map of England firing a tsunami of poop at revolutionary France." Amazing, although, considering my French heritage, I wish things were the other way around.

Presented Without Comment

via happyplace.com

I've got the power!!

Here's a great little clip from io9 about the power-generating effects of poop.  I'll be rich in no time! I've always wondered why the powers of pooh-gas have traditionally been flushed into oblivion instead of harnessed for the greater good. Well, the obvious reason is that poop is gross, but that doesn't stop people from becoming doctors or nurses or fetishists, right?

I hope everyone's having a great start to the new year, despite a lousy new congress bent on punishing the sick and disabled and more than a few signs of the apocalypse.  Well, I hope that's what they're signs of because frankly I'm not interested in watching my loved ones grow old and die and would prefer we all just go together at once.  Also, with all the nasty medications I've been pumping into my body for the past seventeen years growing old will probably not go well for me, so bring on the rapture!  How's that for a positive spin on the end being nigh? Let's just hope it's one big quick flip of the switch and not long and drawn out. 

I haven't made any outright resolutions, but I have cut down on coffee in favor of green tea in the hopes of reducing my cholesterol.  I've also been guzzling "superfood" smoothies from the Naked and Odwalla brands, and taking my vitamins again.  I could tell last Friday that I was getting a cold, so I made a huge pot of fresh chicken broth.  I made a big batch of chicken noodle soup with part of the broth and froze the rest for future use.  I even cooked up the gizzards in the broth and ate the liver to get some extra iron in me.  I drank some fresh orange juice at one of our local diners, which is what got me on the juice and smoothie kick and I must say I think these dietary choices are what kept my symptoms from progressing.  After a few days of sniffling and dripping I've managed to stave off whatever was ailing me- no sick days, no sleepless nights, no cold meds- I win!

I did have some blood in the bowl the other day, but for the past three days everything has been coming out firm and clear, so I'm not sounding the alarms yet.  I am due for my annual scope, so having that on the horizon also makes me feel less concerned about my symptoms because I know I'll be getting checked out soon.  I actually look forward to it each year because I get to take a planned sick day off of work without it coming out of my vacation time.  And I get to be knocked out, which is my favorite part of any medical procedure, duh.

In other life news I'm going to apply my Graduate Certificate credits towards my MA- I'll probably regret it, but I've signed up for three classes. Two are online at least, so that makes things easier. I'm also working on a few creative projects that I'm really thrilled about- one is a comedy writing group and the other is a multi-media project I just got funded through kickstarter.com.  I'm going to be a busy lady in the coming months...


Image source: Jaunted.com

Oh yeah!

Hi blog.  I forgot about you.  Sorry about that.

In follow-up to my last post, I actually did submit "poohlates" to UrbanDictionary, ta-daaah!

                                                                             Ttthhhhp

Sadly (or not?) there was no discernible difference in my poop that next day, at least not in a way that's as noticeable as when I do yoga.  But it was still good for me to exercise.

Also, in follow-up to two posts ago, I have determined that it was my Celexa dosage making me puke.  I'm now taking half the dose in the am, and half in the pm and not puking (except for when I do things like have crab bisque for lunch and follow it up with an iced coffee.  That sure got my juices gurgling!)  My mood has been okay, even when I do get my little bitch-snaps I try to remind myself to not hate on strangers so much, and try to move past things a little faster.  Gut-wise things are pretty steady.  I admittedly played with fire a tad a few weeks ago by taking two lemon-drop shots at a Karaoke bar.  Luckily most of the consequences I faced were directly linked to staying up until 3am and not so much the consumption of sissy shots.

The hair loss finally seems to be slowing down, but the acne doesn't seem to want to leave.  I'm sure humid polluted air doesn't help. But all-in-all I'm rebounding, and my Gastro even dared to put "nearing remission" in my chart last I was there.  Fingers crossed and cheeks clenched!

xoxo
Li'l Crohnsie

Poohlates

I'm totally submitting that word to urban dictionary.  Core exercises always do awesome things to my poop.  Not that my poops have been bad lately, but I'm very curious to see if I'm dropping twigs tomorrow, or big ol' poohlates molded logs. Stay tuned...

~Li'l Crohnsie

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.

Please Curb Your Cremee Machine

But in all seriousness, wtf kind of animal made such a perfect pooh swirl? This is not Photoshopped, J saw this on his way to the laundromat yesterday. Naturally he thought I'd want to see a picture.

I'm a Proud New Mommy!

 

I woke up this morning with a really tight stomach, it was absurdly uncomfortable.  I wanted to go back to sleep, but the more I rolled around in bed the more sore my tummy got.  So I finally decided it was time to get up and poop.  This has been happening somewhat frequently lately, and I've learned this pain means I have a big ol' pooh baby waiting to be birthed. Sometimes the little ones are reluctant to come out, and I find that walking around the apartment while massaging my gut helps to sooth the labor pains and I'm able to pop the buns out of the oven with greater ease.  

I'm pleased to report I've been hitting 4's on the Bristol Stool Chart with more consistency, and hope the trend will continue.  I did decrease to 10mg Prednisone this week, but I also increased to 175mg of Imuran.  I see my doctor tomorrow afternoon, I have to remember to make a list of stuff to report/ask.  I always bring a tiny notebook with me with a little list of talking points prepared. It's also helpful for jotting down notes from the doctor so I don't forget anything important.  

I was really, really tired all week, and kind of touchy, but I'm feeling a little more awake and chipper today.  Of course it's really sunny out and kind of warm, so that could be helping out also.  I'd like to note that I only ever have flare-ups during the winter months.  I wonder if seasonal depression might play a role in this? 

Oh, and I realized I haven't kept up with the cheek watches at all.  I basically leveled off, and think I'm starting to see a decrease in the puffiness.  Acne and facial hair are still the same- did I ever mention my little mustache? Yeah, I have a mustache now.  And my hair is coming out, but it's thick so I'm not worried about it getting to a point of being noticeable.  My appetite isn't as crazy as it's been, and I'm sleeping through the night regularly which is a huge relief.  I am, however, going to bed really early by my standards, and sleeping for about 10 hours at a stretch (and still waking up tired).

And that's that....

On Coping (and some updates)

It was really slow at work today and I found myself sucked into the forums over at the CCFA's website. A lot of what I read got me thinking I'd like to share some of the coping mechanisms that I've used over the years to vent some of the built-up steam over life with IBD.

The very first time I ever felt humbled about my illness was when I was first diagnosed and had been in the hospital for about a week and a half.  I was down on everything, could barely be dragged out of bed to stretch my legs, singing the "why me?" blues all day and night.  And then I got a new roommate- a six year-old with leukemia.  Well that snapped me out of it.  This kid was always happy, always playing with something, and constantly asking to go for walks to the maternity ward to look at babies.  I'm happy to report she's a happy, healthy twenty-something today, but back then she had death knocking at her door and there I was literally belly-aching.  It certainly put things in perspective for me.  Since then, I always try (and often fail) to think of scenarios that are worse than my own.

Other coping mechanisms throughout my high school years included playing the drums, taking art classes, hitting golf balls at the driving range, and clumsily pummelling a boxing bag in our backyard.   I also was, and continue to be, an avid colorer, preferring markers and design books like they sell at Pearl Paint over crayons and picture books.  I don't indulge in coloring as much anymore because I feel like there's not much of a productive outcome, but the meditative nature of coloring is nothing to be scoffed at.  Despite being raised Catholic I don't really subscribe to any particular religious belief, but I am a firm believer in making quiet time for yourself, be that in the form of prayer, meditation, coloring, whatever. 

I tried therapy a couple of times, but never had much luck finding a therapist that did anything but sit and "listen" before kicking me out after an hour.  I decided I have better luck staying home and talking to myself for free.  I do, however, take 10mg of Celexa, an anti-depressant in the SSRI class of drugs (Select Seratonin Reuptake Inhibitor, I think).  I could probably use 20mg, but I want it to be a tool and not a crutch.

This blog is my latest vent, but then writing has always had that benefit in my experience.  I don't play drums anymore, nor do I have the opportunity to golf much, but I have been trying to swim on my lunch break at least once a week.  In addition to helping me relax it's also been helpful in easing my leg pains and loosening up my back and shoulders.  I discovered how much I love yoga a few years ago, but I haven't done it in a while because I haven't quite been up to participating in a full-on class.  I've done some stretching at home on my own, but I'm eager to return to a class setting and do a complete hour routine. I find that, in addition to relaxing me, the quality of my poop is outstanding the morning after a good yoga class. 

On that note, let's transition into an update on my meds and poop.  I was having some malformed doodoos with hints of pink last week, and obviously that had me concerned.  My doc decided to have me stay at 15mg Prednisone for the time being, and called me in for a blood test to check my Imuran levels.  I've put the SCD routine on hold for now, and am back to my full dosage of Pentasa as of Wednesday (that's 3000mg a day). I also got my period on Monday.  I'm not sure if it's one or all of these variables, but I've slept completely through the night for the past four nights in a row, and today I took the biggest, most normal looking crap I've seen since I can't remember when.  You know, the kind you really want to show someone because you're so proud you made it but you know that would just do more harm than good. So that has me pretty happy.  I'm also happy to have a weekend that's not totally devoted to shopping and cooking (although both of those things are on the agenda).  So that's that for now.

ttfn,
Li'l Crohnsie

SCD Updates And This Fabulous Stool Chart

 

1. Pooh Chart

Thanks to the guys at SCD Lifestyle for sharing this amazing pooh chart on their site today. I already have my own names for most of these: for example type 1 is the bunny pooh in my book, and type 6 is the Cadbury Flake.  I think I'm going to start using this chart as a reference in my SCD diary, in which I've been charting my diet, poops, and pill intake.  Maybe I'll share a screenshot with you one of these days.

2. SCD Issues

So, about that SCD thing.  I'm getting really effing sick of it.  I'm exhausted and angry all the time, I'm always hungry, I'm never satisfied, and I'm starting to see blood in my stool.  I can't say that last part is to blame on the SCD- this week I've weaned down to 15mg of Prednisone, and have started taking Pentasa again.  I re-introduced one 500mg pill last Friday, upped to 1000mg on Wednesday, and went up to 1500mg today.  I'm still waking up every morning at 5 or 6, but more and more it's just to pee.  I'm hoping my internal clock will reset soon.  When I get up around 7 I'm pooping a ton, and while it usually starts out looking good -type 3 or 4- it degrades pretty quickly to type 5 or 6 with shades of pink winking out of the brown.  And I've been having tummy cramps more often.

Back to diet- I've been relying pretty heavily on recipes from Comfy Belly, and am a huge fan of the morning sausages and cinnamon cookies.  But then I start to wonder, should I be eating these things so soon? Here are some questions I'm having- I'm going to try to articulate them here and then I'll take them to some SCD communities online to see what feedback I get.

-Am I doing this right?

I made the stater soup on day one, I ate only that and broiled meatballs and broiled fish...and then I had a sweet craving and made SCD-legal almond flour and honey cookies.  The next day I ate cheddar cheese with my soup, and made SCD-legal almond flour crackers. I ate variations of this menu all week, introducing mashed squash, overripe avocadoe, and homemade almond milk banana smoothies towards the end of the week. I know I wasn't adhering strictly to the starter diet and have probably moved too quickly- but I figured I was eating anything I wanted before without symptoms (thanks to the meds), so why not. And frankly, if I can't have the few things that get me through the sweet cravings right off the bat, screw the whole thing.  Also, I haven't been able to make the yogurt yet.  I'm getting a yogurt maker from a friend this week, was it dumb to start the diet before having access to the yogurt?

-What happens if I eat something SCD illegal?
I haven't knowingly cheated at all, but am worried about what the outcome/next step should be if I were to ingest something SCD illegal. Back to square one?  Or take it easy for a day or two and stick it out?

And in no particular order, here are the excuses I've been coming up with to justify giving up:

-My cholesterol.  I cannot tell you how many SCD recipes call for a stick of butter and 2-3 eggs. I don't want to trade intestinal health for a stroke.
-Too much fiber! Even though a lot of delicious things are SCD legal, many of them are things that will still give me the shits, limiting my options even further.
-Holy crap is it expensive.  I've been trying to tell myself, "you're spending as much as you would on take-out" but no, really, I'm pretty sure I'm spending way more on honey, almond flour, and kitchen gadgets.
-I am absolutely, completely exhausted.  Thanks to the 'roids I'm constantly hungry, and as a result I have to constantly accommodate myself by cooking non-stop. And in order to cook non-stop I have to constantly do the dishes and run out to the store.  It is all-consuming and I really don't care to commit all of my free time to this shit. I try to cook enough in advance to give myself a break every now and then, but I just don't seem to be able to cook and clean fast enough. J's been wonderfully supportive, as is his M.O. He made me SCD-compliant chicken nuggets for lunch today, and did all the dishes the other night. Regardless, I'm still constantly on my feet and it's wearing me down fast.

Right now, my shortest-term goal is to make it to Monday, when I talk to my doctor.  My more respectable short-term goal is to make it to yogurt making and see how that goes.  I really don't like the idea of leaving something plugged-in for 24hours, though, so I might not be willing to try making it until next weekend when I can at least be home.  Ideally, I make it a month and see some results. No, Ideally I make it a few more days and start seeing results because patience is a virtue I wasn't blessed with.  But realistically I know it can take a month or more, but then...can I really live this way for the long-term?  I feel less than optimistic about that. Seriously, this diet is harder than quitting smoking.

On Pooping an Farting at Work

Today I concluded that farting at work is somehow far trickier and much more stressful than pooping at work.  Farts can slip out as you run to the bathroom (not that that's never happened before) but more than that I poop way more quietly than I fart.  I seem to have an easier time controlling my butthole when I'm trying to poop quietly, but farting quietly has never come naturally for me.  I don't know if anyone heard me, smelled me, or even noticed anything funny about me today, but it was an exhausting eight hours at the office.  The real frustration for me stems from the location of the bathrooms.  I'm lucky in that our office has individual, unisex bathrooms instead of the dreaded multi-stall situation.  Unfortunately, both are directly outside of private offices of two of my higher-ups, both of whom always have their doors open. 

I usually deal with this problem by running up to the next floor, where I have what I consider "my private office."  This "office" is actually a bathroom located near no one's private office, no one's cubicle, nor any other inhabited space.  It is conveniently located next to the company's server room, which is full of computers and fans and generates an immense amount of white noise.  It is perfect for pooping AND farting.  So it's just my luck that on the fartiest day I've had since being back at work every single time I ran upstairs today my office was occupied!  So I farted in the stairwell, and then ran back to my desk praying that I hadn't laid a trailblazer (you know, a fart that follows you).  I was also horrified that someone might come through the stairwell as I was coming out- you know, that same sensation when you bump into someone going into the bathroom as you're coming out and it stinks (doesn't matter if you made it stink or the person before you...it only matters who's next and who they saw). 

So at the end of the day I actually DID have to poop, and again my office was locked, so I ran to the other upstairs bathroom which is next to the kitchen.  Where two of my coworkers were chatting.  And I could hear them clear as day from the bathroom...which means they could probably hear me clear as day trying desperately to poopfart discreetly.  Oh well, at least they're people I'm friendly with!  At my previous job we had the stall situation, and I actually really bonded with several coworkers who I dubbed my "pooh pals."  Because really, everyone poops at work.  It's never easy, it's rarely (but sometimes) fun, but it's always a possibility so you best make peace with it!

This might ruin popcorn chicken for you but...

But that's what my poop has been making me think of lately.  Not quite like the nuggets shown above- I guess they're bigger now, but when I was a kid I remember KFC popcorn chicken being smaller and that's the version of popcorn chicken I'm thinking of. Not every time, but more often than not when I poop it's these little light brown balls that collect in a pile at the bottom of the bowl.  Thanks to the steroids the association actually makes me hungry. 

On Love and Pooping Part One: Fails

Having IBD in a relationship is always a challenge, and until now an unsuccessful one for me personally. I was a "late bloomer" which I always blamed on my dealing with my IBD. I was deformed by steroids during my teenage years and was a good forty pounds overweight for my height, as well as scarred by unsightly stretch marks. I had huge (DD) boobs, which most girls would have used to their advantage, but mine were a source of discomfort and embarrassment. I knew the rest of me wasn't sexy, and it made me feel like my huge boobs were a cruel joke. After high school, at the age of 17, I had a breast reduction. I rarely regret the decision- size wise I'm very content with my new C-cups, but I do wish I had less scarring and could feel more confident without my top on. I can't help but feel like there's a disconnect between my body and my breasts, which I sometimes jokingly refer to as "frankentits."

On the cusp on my 18th birthday I was beginning my first semester of college at a quirky liberal arts school. The student body was incredibly over-sexed, and also incredibly gay which was awesome being that I'm a fag hag, but miserable in terms of discovering myself sexually and finally getting laid. I spent most of my college years growing increasingly bitter, and it was also during this time (sophomore year specifically) that I began to develop severe anxiety problems. This further hindered me from developing emotionally and sexually- I was 21 before I finally discovered a look for myself that made me feel confident and roped someone into sleeping with me on spring break. I was 22 before I had my first real relationship (one I look back on mostly with shame and regret). My first boyfriend was someone I was friends with at first, and when we finally connected romantically I was on the cusp of a moderate relapse. On the second occasion that I saw this boyfriend after we had hooked up for the first time it was at a party as his place, and I crapped my pants and had to leave (I was able to keep this discreet thankfully). At any rate, my disease was active through pretty much all of our year and a half relationship, and at first I was so grateful to have someone that I thought was supportive to see me through. But the truth is this guy really wasn't supportive. He tried at first, but he was an overactive little kid at heart and really had no qualms making me feel guilty about my inability to keep up with him physically. He would constantly volunteer me for physical activity I wasn't up to, like playing basketball or going for a long bike ride, despite my protests that I wasn't up for it. He would accuse me of being lazy and milking my illness. He also developed a habit of pushing my hot buttons for the sole purpose of instigating me and this would further aggravate my stomach. I've given a lot of thought to what my headspace was during this first relationship, and my mistake was thinking that he was a catch because he had a girlfriend who shat herself and didn't run away screaming. The truth of the matter is, there's a lot more to loving someone with an illness than just not being grossed out by them. It takes a lot of patience, and I can't begin to pretend it's easy for the other person, but there have been some real dick moves I've encountered over the years, not just from this particular ex but from peers and friends as well. As a kid people would say things to me like "wow, it sucks to be you" and "you were more fun before you were sick" and to this day I have a huge chip on my shoulder from it. But back then I knew these people were also kids, and kids are assholes and I could get past it. But adults are still assholes I've come to learn, and I've got some real anger issues when it comes to being left out of things because my IBD limits me. Long story short, had I ever dated before I never would have stayed with this person for more than a few weeks. But desperation, insecurity, and and old fashioned Catholic sense of "gotta make it work" kept me where I was and, despite trying to be friends afterwards, I could stab this guy in the throat to this day if given the chance.

After that relationship I was really, really happy to be single and experienced a personal renaissance. I moved into my own place for the first time, and my health finally started to improve (my uncle later joked that the ex was so annoying it was merely his presence that made me so sick to my stomach) and I began dating casually and that was fine enough. It was tricky because I wasn't drinking and that made getting out and meeting people really scary for me. I'm not too keen on mingling with strangers to begin with, and am admittedly a bit agoraphobic. I've been able to drink alcohol at various points over the years, but partying really came to standstill after college. I had a few embarrassing IBD dating moments, like the time I farted not realizing it was going to smell so bad when I was on a date. The guy took it in stride and we got a few good laughs out of it, but we only saw each other once more and that was the end of that. After a while I started to get chummy with a guy in my neighborhood, and we had what turned out to be a really stressful fling. There was a lot going on with me at this time, as I had stopped taking Celexa (under the supervision of my doctor) and was using the NuvaRing for birth control- two things that made me completely and utterly batshit crazy. I was miserable at my job and having a "quarter life crisis" (I'm so sick of that phrase) and I had begun seeing a new gastroenterologist, who turned out to be just terrible. My IBD didn't come up too much while I was seeing this guy, but he did dump me the night before he was supposed to drive me home from a colonoscopy (which he still did, thankfully). I can't say we've stayed friendly, but there's not the same kind of hate that cultivated for the first ex.

I'm omitting a few minor ex-boyfriends here, and a long list of unrequited "loves" (most of whom turned out to be gay) but these few above are the real fails worth mentioning. Up next, the story of the win.

Happy Poop for Peace Day!!

According to the folks at Poop Report April 17th is annual Poop for Peace day. A day to put aside our differences, put down the paper, and concentrate on the pure serenity of the act of pooping- it is, after all, the great universal equalizer. As Poop for Peace day draws to a close I leave you with this:

That will be the last Indian meal for a while

On Monday I had myself some chicken tikka masala and saag panir for lunch. The only thing is the chicken wasn't the same as usual- instead of clean cubes of white meat it was greasy hunks of meat off the bone- little danglers of fat hanging off the tips of whatever part of the chicken the flesh was from. It didn't feel right after I ate it, and I passed the leftovers off on J and had my own leftovers from Easter for dinner.

It was a sad sight in the bowl the next day. I think I crapped about four times between 8am and 2pm and it was soft (but at least effortless to expel). And it smelled like corn, kind of.

For lunch on Tuesday I had a tuna sandwich on a plain bagel with kettle chips and a cherry cola. For dinner I had an eel avocado roll, vegetable tempura, and a spring roll with a can of ginger ale. Oh, and a zebra cake my man picked up for me on the way home. I pooped less this morning, but it was a little malformed. I also gagged a bunch when I first woke up.

Today I had a 1/4 roast chicken with warm pita bread and fries for lunch. I don't know if I ate too much or too fast, but I was needing to belch like nuthin' else. But I was eating at my desk so I had to try to stifle it. It was not easy. I think I screwed myself a bit by eating too much candy in the morning. My boss just came back from vacation with a bag of chocolates and another friend from work had a container of jelly beans. Put those together and there you have my breakfast. My discomfort passed and I've been feeling better since about 3 this afternoon. J's in the kitchen making me white fish with brocoli and noodles for dinner.

On a side note, if you haven't noticed the "Poop for Peace" ads then let me direct you myself:
check out the poop for peace initiative over on PoopReport for more info!