<![CDATA[Jezebel: constipation]]> http://tags.gawker.com/assets/base/img/thumbs140x140/jezebel.com.png <![CDATA[Jezebel: constipation]]> http://jezebel.com/tag/constipation http://jezebel.com/tag/constipation <![CDATA[How Do You Break The Poop Ice With A New Paramour?]]> I'm leaving tonight to go on vacation. I'm taking a road trip to Tennessee and staying in a log cabin in the Smoky Mountains, going to Dollywood (Dolly is gonna be performing there!), and then onto Memphis. I'm going with my new boyfriend, whom I've only been seeing for about a month and a half. Things moved super quickly for us, and this is the fastest (and maybe only the second or third) time I've ever traveled with a boyfriend on vacation. Here's the thing: I'm freaking out about my poop. I have poop problems that I've documented here before. It's difficult enough for me to stay regular in the comforts of my own home, but when I'm in a foreign environment I become instantly and seriously constipated. On my last vacation I didn't go for eight days straight. And since I'm gonna be swimming in a heart-shaped pool at the Heartbreak Hotel in Memphis and lounging in a hot tub in Pigeon Forge, I really, really don't want to look bloated in a bikini.

OK, so my main concern is constipation, but my #2 (heh) concern is what will happen when I finally do "release." I'm expecting my period to come smack dab in the middle of this trip, so I know that will hollow out my bowels. And those period craps — while totally a welcome relief from my regular irregularity when I'm sitting alone in my apartment — are going to be a problem. Because they're always loud. And smelly. And messy. And time-consuming. And after being backed up for a few days, it's gonna be even worse. I'm not really sure how I'm going to handle it.

My relationship with this guy is so new that we haven't really crossed that bridge of pooping around one another yet. He's one of those guys that's gonna need some breaking-in as far as getting used to my incessant farting. (It's been killing me, holding them in!) But I guess if we're gonna make this relationship work, I'm gonna have to get over my poop fears. Once I get my period shit (hopefully around Sunday), this guy is gonna receive a baptism by fire.

Earlier: I Went For A Colonic And All I Got Was A Load Of Crap

]]> http://jezebel.com/index.php?op=postcommentfeed&postId=5036624&view=rss&microfeed=true <![CDATA[I Went For A Colonic And All I Got Was A Load Of Crap]]> I've had poop issues for some time now. I'm pretty sure I have some kind of mild IBS, although IBS is really just a blanket term for a host of gastrointestinal problems. Anyway, I've only pooped four times in the past three weeks. (Most likely caused by my love affair with any and all cheeses.) So this weekend, on my 8th straight day of constipation, I went to NYC's Great Jones Spa for my very first colonic to try get out the shit that's been keeping me dressed in pseudo-maternity tops. Lemme tell you something: It was not fun. I guess it wasn't supposed to be, but honestly, I had to sit through 45 minutes of what felt like heavy period cramps, all while fearless Intern Betty stood by my side to film the process (and hold my crossword book for when I had to move to the toilet at the end). I felt much better afterward (and emptied myself of an impressive 2.5 lbs of poop), but I think I'll be relying on my new dairy-free diet to move me from now on. Clip above.

]]> http://jezebel.com/index.php?op=postcommentfeed&postId=380041&view=rss&microfeed=true