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Shit Happens

Living in a hospice care facility is a trip. It has it's good moments as well as bad, poignant moments, and embarrassing ones, too. This was a first, but I'll get to that soon.
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ALS, also known as Motor Neuron Disease, gradually kills motor nuerons that control muscles. The propaganda says that the voluntary muscles are affected but my experience proves out otherwise. For example, elimination is hardly voluntary. It must be done or thou shalt burst. Eventually, we are unable to breathe. Also, not voluntary.

Anyway, back to elimination. Yeah, I'm going there. My reality, being a non-mobile, is that I am frequently constipated. Despite consciously making healthy, fiber-rich choices, I am at the mercy of deteriorating biology. My options to prevent the aforementioned, bursting, are Miralax, stool softeners, suppositories, and something called digi-stim. Dear God don't ask!

Tonight, I had yet another bout and had to resort to the dreaded suppository. I've had to trust that the nurses are adept at administering this most delicate and intimate procedure. Unfortunately, I've had it done badly at the last nursing facility I lived at. Let's just say that people with long fingernails...Well, you get it. Tonight, on the other hand, I had a more interesting experience. A male nurse did the job and it kinda went in the wrong place. What's worse is that when I alerted the nurses who were performing this feat in tandem, they actually asked if I was sure!

The bitch about ALS is that while my muscles are failing, my cognition and sensory is fully intact. I know when something goes in the vah jay jay. So, what did I do?

Laughed. I couldn't stop myself. I mean, think about it, this is the most action I've had in nearly two years.

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