Day II of being home. It's good to have a goal. So far I've walked (according to the spouse) one hundred fifty yards up the road and back. Of course, that meant changing into yoga pants and sweater and coat. The snow was soft and fluffy. The cold air sweet to my lungs. I've yet to acheive the goal of (ahem) moving my bowels. Five days sans BM. By rights, I should be exploding: prunes. MOM. Extra Vitamin C. Large amounts of water. Can you say bloated, boys and girls? Can you say, crampy, boys and girls? I thought you could. You'd think that if I'm extolling the anticipation of a glorious fecal output that I would have no problem with my husband telling my brother-in-law on the phone that I was trying to have a bowel movement. Well, I did have a problem. A big problem. I turned into a shrieking don't tell him that where did this piece of modesty come from cartoon. Really, I don't need the rest of his family knowing I poop. I've had my two and one half hour afternoon nap. On the list for later: A shower! My belly has all kinds of interesting yellow and plum colored bruises. The surgical glue at the incisions is itching and wearing off. All and all, I am grateful that things went well and that all I have to complain of are my bruises and my raw feeling belly button. But, Damn! that's annoying. Yeah, I've got such a hard life.  Blessings abound | 
