Poop.

 I'll keep this pretty brief, as I'm still recovering from the last 24 hours. I woke up yesterday determined to poop. It had been a week, and I've been taking stool softeners, so it was time. I had weened myself off my pain killers to help move things along too. 

It was a disaster. I've never felt so defeated and depressed after not being able to poop. I sobbed and went back to bed. It's very hard to concentrate at the task at hand when your leg is also on fire. 

I would just like to announce that after 24 hours of blood, sweat, and tears, laboring day and night, an enema, 6 stool softeners, 3 glycerin suppositories, and a couple gloves, I have successfully delivered "the precious cargo." I am now 15 pounds lighter, and can only assume, look fantastic. Please hold a moment of silence for my poor bum, as they were a casualty of war and the poor thing may never be the same...