Hellos, Everybun!
I'm doing much better. Something happened last Sunday night — we don't know exactly — but my appetite went south. On M*nd*y I heard the word "gas" a lot. We were lucky enough to see Dr. Zellner in the afternoon, and I got one of those famous massages like a Concerto in G Major to Medium for Skilled Fingers and an Obdurate Bun. The good doctor broke up the gas bubble in my gut, felt things around, and induced contraction in my belleh. There was no blockage or anything else that could be of concern. I didn't even have to get one of those pictures where you can see right through me.
And while we were at it, she also squeezed the living p*ss out of me too and was very hoppy with that - because clear and normal urine came out.
Talk about a twofer.
We did catch it early, and later that evening, poops started coming out. Now, I've got a lot of follow-up messages at home. Of course, those were not as glorious as the doctor's, but they kept things moving.
We've made it back to the edge of the woods sometime on Tuesday afternoon.
It's been a real head scratcher. Did I overindulge in something? Let's go with that, because we can tweak the diet a little more. For the most part, we're at the edge of what we can change to keep this from happening again.
So it's been a week. Is my hoomin now a complete basket case or a case of baskets?
That would be twenty-four baskets, correct? That's about right.
We'll keep you posted!
- Charlie
No comments:
Post a Comment