My Asshole is Calling Me an Asshole

The daily blog might gross the weak out tonight, so be warned, beware, and be prepared. I actually tore myself a new asshole today. I stayed home from work until mid-afternoon because it took all morning to pass the poop. No poop for two days, I should ave known. I set myself up for serious pain. Even with four or five suppositories and finger manipulation there was lots of blood. I hope I am not in for weeks (months?) of serious pain and all that comes with the bleeding and swelling and skin issues. The medication regime I finally figured out (partially by accident and without any professional medical help at all, thanks docs) has been working great for months, but I tore up all the healing I did this morning. Kinda numb now, and no appetite. I reaffirm that I will not be eating tonight and I will have only liquids for at least a few days, maybe until I have a painless poop, which might be weeks. Be optimistic.

I need a standing desk.

Stop laughing, it's only funny if you love me. Feel free to laugh with me if you do. Wouldn't mind you letting me know, I mean, the worst may be over for now and I sure could use a hug and some love. I bought $40 worth of digestive system medications. Crossed the line and bought lidocaine. I will mix a dab into the calmoseptine and see what happens. I refilled the stock of laxatives and hemerrhoid suppositories. I haven't used one of those much in the past couple of months since figuring out the laxative/creme/ointment treatment. They (the rhoids) expanded considerably in the last few weeks due to diet, lack of exercise, and sitting way too much (so why am I sitting now?), though the calmo and massage has helped reduce them. Until today. The food monster took over and the body pain the price.

This entry is, I hope, the start of taking body health more seriously again.

In case it matters.

Still Floundering, Without the Flounder

There's flounder in the freezer, but I've been eating pizza and White Castles and lasagna and all sorts of other high calorie foods late at night. Days are protein drinks, but I've been caving in at night and on weekends. Stopping tomorrow would be a wise thing to do. March must be a low low calorie month, no other sensible move. Maybe writing this will help. Hey, I'm still wearing the 34 waist pants and I'm comfortable in large T-shirts without stretching them out. Probably around 190 pounds. Ish. Drop ten pounds in March, at least. Fifteen? Twenty? Ok, ok, fifteen if I can, but at least ten. Under 180 again. We can do this! Stop the self-destructive eating and get back to the gym (or buy the damned elliptical already).

Please?

Not Really Here

Obviously, I stopped begging myself to stop bloating and I stopped getting on the scales and I stopped going to the gym and I stopped being smart and healthy, but I am still wearing the 34 inch waist pants and still need a belt to keep them up, so it can't be too bad. Maybe. I am just noting the current not-here status of the body, m'ok? Maybe cuz the rhoids and itching kicked up again this weekend. Get it together kid, you don't want to die, right?

Yeah, but pizza, bacon, chocolate mousse, and ice cream... so good.