Constance

An unannounced and not so welcome visitor to my surgery recovery is, what I have affectionately called Constance, known better to others as constipation. The pain meds aren't all they're cracked up to be ...

I tried the fruits and veggie suggestion for a couple days hoping that it would ferret out Constance without too much trouble - no results to write home about (or write here about). So, last night, Hubs dug out my old pink box of Correctol - relief in a box, or so I thought. The box says, "Gentle, overnight relief." The only true word in that statement is "overnight."

I hadn't eaten much yesterday because I have no way to work up an appetite yet in this first lie-on-my-back-with-foot-propped-up stage of recovery. So, on an empty stomach, I took two tablets and went to bed. And while the night wore on and my meds wore off, I also took two pain meds on an empty stomach.

Realizing my mistake, I stuffed a half column of saltines in my face hoping that it wasn't too late. It was too late.

At about 3:30 a.m., I ended up on the toilet with a wastebasket on my lap. Needless to say, I didn't need the toilet.

Hubs got out of bed, cleaned up the mess and put me back to bed without so much as a fuss. He is in the running for "Best Husband In The World Award" for his performance in the last few days of this saga and his ability to deal with Constance is no exception.