Since the secret of my recent bowel discomfort has gotten out (thanks to Princess!), I have decided to address it straight on. After all - there is no shame in the normal bodily issues that accompany old age.
Yes - I have suffered from constipation. It was unpleasant (as I'm sure you can imagine), and I was relieved (no pun intended) beyond words when things finally got moving again. Unfortunately, the cure is almost as bad as the ailment, and involves a dropper, mineral oil, and some rather undignified scrambling.
The vet said that I might continue to have occasional bouts of slow bowel function, and will probably need to keep taking the mineral oil every few days. But, I refuse to let it slow me down. I might be old, but I've still got a lot of life left to live.
On another note - it seems to be a trend in these posts to make some sort of comment on the way the household now functions since Nimrod took his pastoral departure. Things are more quiet, to be sure, and there is less danger of exposure to toxic gasses since he's no longer cooking up dangerous, explosive concoctions. I will say, however, that I find myself missing his occasional bouts of manic activity. They were far more entertaining than Shane's slothfulness, and far less frightening than Princess's unbridled bitterness.
Still... I have more quiet time to read now that he's gone, and no longer have to fight for my spot in the bed. Plus, I know he's blissfully happy with all that land to explore, spare parts and old machinery to scavenge, and access to power tools and a welder. I can only imagine the trouble he will manage to get himself into.
Gentle readers, it's so nice to be back in communication again. And, though I wish the topic would have been less <ahem> sensitive, I do love sharing my life with you.
Yours,
Charles
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