So far? The Reglan?

This is the super-pooping medication of all time, people. This medication makes you crap like there is no fucking tomorrow.

OK, I know I’m gross. I know this is really gross, but yesterday I took the largest crap you or anyone else has ever seen. I guarantee it. It was so massive in its scope that I was afraid and a little bit in awe. I almost wanted to photograph it, so amazing and wondrous was the product of my intestinal machinations.

I know, I’m gross. I can’t help it. I blame it on my family, who talks about poop at the dinner table.

Really, though, I wish you could have seen my poop.

Really.

Anyway.

I am in a lot of pain, because as the rusty wheels of my stomach and intestines have started to turn, they have not done so without a lot of protest. I still can’t eat more than about a half a cup of food at a time.

It’s like I had a gastric bypass without the bypass.

I can’t eat anything raw, any meat, or anything that is otherwise difficult to digest. I miss fruit.

I guess I had better follow along, though, because apparently if this gets bad it gets really bad, and you can wind up on a feeding tube. Fuck that.

So, I’m just sitting around, clutching my clenching stomach, not exercising and angry about it, and pooping like some sort of record-breaking super pooper.

My son is going to his first dance tonight. It’s a Valentine’s Day dance, and he bought the Prettiest Girl In The Class a mood ring at the dollar store when we were there buying balloons (he’s on the planning committee) and is going to ask her to dance. O THE DRAMA!

He is wearing black pants and a black sport jacket with a funky t-shirt and black converse, and I do believe he will look very cool.

But I’m not nervous for him, not at all.

Ahem.

Happy Thursday.

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