Yeah, it’s come to this. And since I’m the queen of “Hey, I’ll talk about that!”, here we go, another poop post.
(It’s funny how I get a burst of comments when I post about poop – yes, this is a safe place for everyone else dealing with this crap – literally and figuratively. Miss Phoebe understands your pain and trauma, come sit next to Miss Phoebe…)
So I posted several days ago about the hurdles we went through to find Maura something new to help her poo, as she won’t always poo on her own. And how doctors don’t seem to understand this. But her new doctor prescribed liquid senna, with a “Give every day for 30 days”.
The morning after the first dose, we had success. We were filled with optimism.
By the end of the week, we were full of fear, Maura was full of poo, and my laundry pile had once again become something to fear because of all the little accidents.
I posted about our despair on Facebook, where a friend who has played this game as well said she’d gone to a motility specialist and he didn’t recommend liquid senna, as the potency fades the longer it sits on a shelf. Okay then. He did recommend the chocolate senna. I asked what that was – yeah, Ex-lax. Just plain old Ex-lax (*he actually also recommended the WalMart brand according to her.)
So we broke out the Ex-lax. Because Maura was getting more and more miserable, and we were becoming more and more fearful of what would happen when everything did finally take effect.
We tried again.
Do you KNOW how scary it is to know your child has days worth of senna sitting in her colon, and refusing to let anything out? I even tried a tummy massage, to help stimulate things inside. Yes, I’ve looked up “Colonic massage” – that’s how invested I am in all this.
Last night we decided to give her a break. Do nothing, and call the doctor in the morning to figure out what the next move was.
Go figure, this was the morning she finally pooped.
So we’re chucking the liquid senna (which just draws water to the colon to soften the stool, as I found out after reading up on it – which is not the problem, sigh) and sticking with the Ex-lax, but only for emergencies. Oh, and burning the washing machine after all this. Poor washing machine. The things we put it through.
And thus ends another glorious saga of a week in a special needs family.