Poo Monster Resurrected

Poo is a played out subject.  At least to me anyway.  How can I write about it and make it fresh?  Well, the writing anyway.  For me to even consider writing about it, things have to really stand out from the norm.  I mean, I deal with that end of the body several times a day.  On Saturday, I had a memorable poo moment.  Different than the rest.  I just knew I was going to put fingers to keyboard.  Sorry it’s taken a few days.  I had to let the experience sink in.

Milk of Magnesia is some strong stuff but with Satomi’s changing metabolism, I couldn’t predict what would come from administering it.  It had been nearly a week since she had any noticeable movements.  We had tried softeners and suppository laxatives and the result was mediocre.  Even considering the lesser food intake, we all felt it necessary to clean her out.  So I gave her a half-dose of MoM on Friday evening, many extra sips of water, placed an extra “pull-up” diaper” on her for (my) safety, and prepared the room for battle.

I laid out liners on the floor and on the edge of the bed; an open box of gloves and a full box of wipes to within easy reach; and the trash can close but out-of-the-way.  Anything that wasn’t absolutely necessary was taken out of the room just in case things got out of hand.

Friday night and Saturday morning came and went.  Every hour I’m doing the parental poo verification technique of smelling the diaper.  Nothing but the pleasant smell of baby powder and clean diapers.

Late Saturday afternoon we had our first signs of something-a grape-sized nugget.  That’s it?  I was getting frustrated.  What the hell?  Maybe she really didn’t eat enough to need a poo?  Maybe I should have given her a full-dose of MoM?  

It’s not gushy or messy so reach in with a gloved-hand and pull out the lump, wipe up a few poo marks and leave the rest of the defenses in place.

I feel guilty about leaving Satomi in dirty diapers.  It’s now Saturday evening.  I visually check for poo and the coast is clear.  My gut tells me the attack is still imminent but I decide to take the opportunity to do a quick diaper swap. 

In these past few weeks, I’ve honed my in-bed diaper changing techniques.  I’m fairly confident in my abilities but this evening I was all alone.  If I could play some foreboding music, I would cue it up now.

I gloved-up, laid out a half-dozen wipes on the edge of the bed, grabbed the spare diapers from the pack, pulled back the covers and went to work.

Snip.  Snip.  The outer diaper was lose and I rocked her side-to-side slightly to slide it off.  This one is easy since it’s clean and the diaper doesn’t stick to itself.  My back starts to hurt because I’m hunched over the bed but for now, no big deal.  Diaper in the trash.  Satomi is starting to wake up.

Snip.  Snip.  The inner diaper is the dirty one from earlier.  Not bad but definitely some skid mark stains.  I rocked her side-to-side but the plastic is sticking to her skin a bit.  It didn’t slide well.  I should have used baby powder beforehand-Oh well, too late.  I gently grab both legs and rotate them upward toward the ceiling to lift her hips off of the diaper.

Foreboding music gets louder.

BAAAAAAMMMMM!  A poo explosion!  Well, more like somebody stepping on an open tube of toothpaste.  Damn Poo Monster!

I drop her legs back down and grab handfuls of gloves and wipes and dump them all on the foot of the bed.  I pull the trash can closer.  Once I start fighting, I know that I won’t be able to grab them later.

I lift her legs as high as I can without any complaint from Satomi.  I get a close view and the toothpaste is still gushing.  I quickly evaluate my options and I decide to grab a wipe and jam it into the middle of the foray. 

After a few seconds, I reach in and scoop it out and dump it into the trash can.  Jam, scoop, dump, jam, scoop, dump, jam, scoop, dump and on and on. 

Many minutes and many wipes go by and my hunched back is aching.  The poo is slowing down so I change into cleaning mode.  Instead of scooping, I’m wiping-jam, wipe, dump, over and over.  The cleaning is progressing but random poo chunks still arise; I just grab and throw them into the trash directly. 

Her butts getting cleaner so it’s time that I remove the nasty diaper that is still under her hips.  I change gloves and change my grip on her legs.  I rotate upward again and slide out the diaper.  Luckily, the monster hadn’t decided to climb up her back.  I toss the engorged diaper into the can and wipe frantically.  I grab a disposable liner and quickly tuck it under her now semi-clean butt.  I keep wiping and cleaning and Satomi is still staring at me.

Things are calming down but I don’t trust the monster-the sneaky bastard.  I look at Satomi and I ask “Are you done?”  No response so I repeat.  “Are you done?”  She finally nods but I realize that I’m being a fool.  The monster can trick anyone.  I decide to check for myself.

Loud foreboding music again.

BAAAAAAMMMMM!  A second attack!  But this time, I was ready.  My hand scooped it up as it shot out.  I really hope these gloves hold out.  It would really suck if there’s a hole in them somewhere.

Three or four scoops, a new set of gloves, and a couple of wipes later, things are clean and quiet again.  But I don’t trust the monster so I checked again.

BAAMM!  A third and obviously smaller attack!  Same plan.  Two scoops, remove the liner and cleanup.  The worst is over.

Two new diapers, tuck her in, dump the trash and reorganize.  Satomi is fully awake now and just staring.  She’s comfy and clean again.  I’m done. 

I’ve been hunched over for over 20 minutes and my back is just screaming.  I may have won the battle but my wounds will be long-lasting.