Bladders, Bowels & Bloody Spasms: Just Another Glorious Night in Paradise

🖤 Brutally honest. Darkly hilarious. Another night, another spectacular symphony of spasms and piss. Didn’t even eat jam—so no excuses. Still ended up piddling all night. Up at 4 a.m., and that’s it. Done. Might as well accept it: I live on four hours of sleep and pure defiance now.

My bladder? It’s got its own postcode and personality. I can’t even wheel past a bloody tap without it throwing a tantrum. The sound of water? Instant dribble. It's never a full empty either—just a cheeky squirt, like it’s laughing at me from the inside.

Forget catheters. I invented my own fix. Because willy pipe of doom? Not a chance. I like my manhood unperforated, thank you very much.

And then there’s the daemon bum. Thanks to numb fingers, wiping is like blindfolded surgery with oven mitts. Too soft? Still dirty. Too hard? Hello blood. Throw in a bout of dehydration, and now we’re in full bowel battleground mode. Constipation? Got a hack for that—but it’s borderline medieval.

Oh, food. Where do we start? I’m allergic to everything. Meat, fish, animal fat, most veg. Yes, vegetables. I can’t even eat like a rabbit. Instead, I lurk near the kitchen extractor fan while bacon fries, sniffing fat molecules like some kind of culinary pervert. Minutes later—BOOM. To the loo. Escape velocity.

Let’s add the pain, shall we? Neck, back, gut, everywhere. MS is giving me a right walloping. Pins and needles across arms, legs, face. Tinnitus screeching in my skull like a broken fire alarm. And today? Extra loud. Extra lovely.

Stress level: 9.7 on the “Why am I not screaming?” scale.

Time to hit the THC-CBD oil and vape some Mary Jane to calm the chaos. Not because it’s edgy—because it works. Better than half the legal shit they try to hand out like sweets.

Outside? Dark clouds. Inside? Just me, my squeaky-wheeled trolley (cheers, WD-40, made it worse), and a nervous bladder ready to pounce.

Still here. Still wheeling. Still laughing at the madness. What else can you do?

          “The views in this post are based on my personal
            experience. I do not intend harm, only honesty.”   

               “By ink and breath and sacred rage, I write.
                      By storm and silence, I survive.”