I just realized that I have a job.  Yep, I’m not really retired, instead I’m working for the department of water works.  My full-time job is making sure that I know where the nearest urinal is and that I can get there in time.  Turns out a lot of people my age work at the same job!  I was in Costco’s bathroom the other day and it was packed with old men.  It helps that big box stores put their bathrooms in the same place at every location.  How many of you know where the bathroom in Bed, Bath and Beyond is?  My second full time job is working on my mining for poop.

Constipation, what an exciting topic to write about.  I find it interesting that, at the age of 69, poop talk still makes me want to laugh.  Poop talk leads to all kind of jokes.  My opening line could have been, “Constipation, a shitty topic to write about.”  I had another opening line.  It’s on the tip of my tongue and I can’t quite put it on paper.

Seriously, the older you get the more important and difficult your bowels and bladder become.  For many, their golden years revolve around both poop and pee.  Time for a joke now:

Three old guys sitting at the breakfast table:

Guy 1 – Oy, it’s terrible.  I get up in the morning and sit for an hour straining to take a dump. I push and I push and all I get are little rabbit turds.  I’m miserable!

Guy 2 – I can poop just fine.  I can’t pee.  I get up in the morning and try to pee.  I get tiny drops that go everywhere except where I want them.  I strain and I strain and eventually I pee.  Then 15 minutes later, it starts again. It’s terrible!

Guy 3 – I don’t have a problem pooping or peeing.  The only problem I have is I do both an hour before I wake up!

The best humor comes from reality.  The reality is that I can fix the urinary problem with surgery.  The problem is I like my prostate just as much as I like the rest of my body parts and I’m not in any hurry to get rid of it.  I’ve had enough surgery.

The constipation is a different subject.  There are many causes for constipation.   Mine include my age (if I stop aging it resolves), Parkinson’s (same caveat) and my medications.  My choices appear to be either stop aging or deal with it.  I’ve decided to live so I’ll just have to deal with it.

True story – My fellow residents used to sit together at the 3 am free breakfast that Lutheran General Hospital provided.  We’d talk shop, review cases, and slam the attending physicians prescribing habits.  On one such occasion, I presented a case where the patient was on 13 different medications.  Half of the meds were given to treat the side effects of the other half.  We took an oath: we would never do that!

Fools that we were, we believed it.  Flash forward 30 years and I had patients on 13 meds, half treating side effects of the other half.  Flash forward 10 years more and I’m on 13 meds.  And I’m fricken constipated. 

I’ve seen my doc who told me my protuberant belly was from constipation.  I didn’t believe her.  I got a second opinion from a gastroenterologist.  He told me I was fat and constipated.  His answer, take more Miralax and start on Dulcolax.  Oh yeah, he told me to lose weight and then explained why I wouldn’t lose weight due to the myriad of problems and meds I had.

I’m losing weight and am down 1 ½ pounds in a week.  If Miralax wasn’t available as a generic, I’d buy stock.  I can’t get enough of it.  Same for Dulcolax.  I think today’s the day I get lucky and have a movement.  In the meantime, if you see me out and about, you’ll notice that I’m always scanning for the location of the nearest bathroom.  (I wish Yelp would rate public bathrooms.)

I almost forgot.  I stopped at a Harris Teeter to get some last minute supplies.  On entering the store, I headed directly to the bathroom.  The problem was the store design I was in was different from what I was used to.  I found the bathroom just in the nick of time. 

Next week, I’ll write about designer Depends.  If you are having problems with poop or pee, be sure to review them with your doctor.  Meanwhile, hydrate. 

Here’s some jokes:

At age 4, success means not peeing in your pants

At age 12, success means having friends

At age 17, success means having a driver’s license

At age 25, success means having sex

At age 35, success means having money

At age 45, success means having money

At age 55, success means having sex

At age 65, success means having a driver’s license

At age 75, success means having friends

At age 85, success means not peeing in your pants.

A wife sent a romantic text to her husband. She wrote: “If you are sleeping, send me your dreams. If you are laughing, send me your smile. If you are eating, send me a bite. If you are drinking, send me a sip. If you are crying, send me your tears. I love you.”

Her husband texted back: “I’m on the toilet, please advise.”


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