2.30am Watery, heavy blood
5.40am Watery, blood
8.55am Watery, light blood, loose stool
2.50pm Loose stool, light blood
7.45pm Loose stool, very light blood
10.10pm Light blood, bloody mucus
This is my diary entry recording my bowel movements on 4th May. It’s pretty typical of that first week out of hospital. I remember feeling very frustrated at how little progress I seemed to be making. Sores just inside my back passage made inserting the enemas extremely painful. The generous dollop of lubricant I squeezed onto the tip of the enema made little or no difference. I would psyche myself up for a good ten minutes before I could go through with the act. I had to sweet-talk myself into it. With a final murmur of encouragement I’d quickly shove the tablet as far up my bum as I could. Hooch! I’d then walk around in very tight circles with my legs bent stiffly like a flamingo until the pain subsided. I think it’s fair to say using enemas is a solitary, lonely and wholly undignified practice. In fact it’s probably illegal in some countries. So you can imagine my relief when I was given the option of using a foam enema. Foam? What, that lovely, soft, marshmellowy stuff? I’ll have me some of that, I thought. After the recent atrocities of the atom bomb sized enemas the Predfoam Rectal Foam 20mg was like having clouds of soothing fairy dust delicately blown up your anus by specially trained humming birds. The most uncomfortable thing about Predfoam was handing the prescription over to the young girl in the chemists. Now I’d found a way of administering a drug I was happy with I just had to keep my fingers crossed it worked.