Life From The Edge Of A Toilet Seat. Part One (Releasing The Kraken)

It takes exactly four steps to reach the bathroom from my bedroom and thereon, exactly two steps to get to the toilet from the bathroom entrance. In my head however, those footfalls take far far longer. For in the dark recesses of my mind, the aforementioned footsteps, equal an epic journey of great importance and ginormous magnitudes.

The journey inevitable begins from the prison of my bed, whereby a huge exchange will take place between my mind, bladder and body.
Bladder will argue it’s point regarding the need for release and putting forward it’s plight concerning the injustice of having no control and always having to be put on hold.
The mind will rationalise the many problems faced by not getting up and taking care of nature, whilst gently reminding me of the intricacies of the Kegel method and that women with slack Lady Gardens DO NOT get dates.
My body? My body will be in the midst of giving up. All the components that make it functional, will be staging a gang warfare on their enemies pain and fatigue and all the while, I will just be lying there and pondering the fact that if I peed myself, I could always turn the mattress over. Besides, who wouldn’t welcome a bit of warmth on a cold chilly night…even if it is rather wet?


And that’s when dignity comes into play, (Damn you dignity!) forcing me to leave the confines of my enclosure and forwarding me onto my arduous adventure. Those four steps I wrote about earlier? Well they are no longer the mere treading of carpet. They are the battle walk of the weary and the forlorn as I trudge towards uncertain doom. Will I ever reach my destination on time, or like the war torn children of 1940’s Britain, will my bowels evacuate? (Er..sentences like that may be the very reason why nobody reads this blog) So onward I march or lightly shuffle, over lands and hills, through towns and valleys, into worlds unknown and of mythical proportions. Encountering Hydras, two-headed werewolves and other beasts of my wanton imagination, my journey finally ends when I slay the fabled underwater monster and declare proudly, “RELEASE THE KRAKEN!” And yes, that is a euphemism for it’s time to poop.


So now I sit on the porcelain throne of my disembarkation, spent and slightly nauseated from the hardship of my travels. I cannot allow myself to feel a slight moment of victory, for the hard work has yet to begin.
Now as it has already been surmised, a trip to the bathroom is no mean feat. Once there, the occupancy of the room could take quite a while because once the cool surface of the throne is warmed by the posterior of the occupier, it’s er…rather difficult to achieve standing position thereafter. And so I stay and wait, and contemplate life from the edge of my toilet seat.



7 thoughts on “Life From The Edge Of A Toilet Seat. Part One (Releasing The Kraken)

  1. The necessity for a loo close by increases as you age. Not having your health issues I still find myself having the “will I get up – or won’t I” conversation, especially if I wake an hour before I am due to get up. Either way, sleep is gone. Still, looking on the bright side (looking actually got mistyped as looing, which seems appropriate) the alternative to not getting up would be much worse in the long run. I suppose you could always stock up on nappies 😉

    Liked by 1 person

    • Heehee, tying to loo on the bright side as well as looking on the bright side. It’s just so much effort to crawl out of bed (I look like a beached whale) and take those few steps when my feet feel like stumps. I told the womb fruit quite matter-of-factly (get lost spell check. it is a word) that “I think I’m just gonna lie here and pee myself. Fetch me a bucket of hot water for when I’m done.” He just said that wouldn’t it make more sense to pee in the bucket and then almost hoisted my butt out of bed when I told him that he’d have to empty it. Sometimes traumatising him is all that I live for. 🙂 Oh, and I’ll have to write about those adult nappies some day.

      Liked by 1 person

  2. Oh, Lily. It’s not funny but you make it funny. For completely different reasons I nearly duct taped myself to the toilet the other night and seriously considered wearing Depends to my dr. appt. the next day just in case I coughed or sneezed and ended up quite literally a hot mess! I am fortunate. My crap will go away eventually. I suspect when people learn how to cover when they cough and sneeze and whenever they decide it’s a PHENOMENAL idea to stay home when they’re sick. I feel for you my friend. ❤ Always love from Idaho..

    Liked by 1 person

    • Haha! Now wouldn’t that have been a sight! I won’t tell you about the day that I was ever so thankful that we have a sink right next to the toilet.
      You’re right though, it’s not funny…not until after the facts and then I just have to laugh at myself.
      Thanks for the love. It’s always appreciated. Btw, hope that you’re feeling much better. xx

      Liked by 1 person

  3. Having to get up to pee at night is something I know all too well because I have the crappy age-related overactive bladder, so it’s like I am always having to pee and even worse at night. For me, of course, it’s easier to get to the bathroom and I empathize with what you have to go through. 😦 Sometimes I’ll lie in bed having the “seriously do we need to do this now?” conversation between my bladder and my body, and then grudgingly get up and go. Ah, relief! I always love the graphics you put in your posts. “I’m flying bitches,” cracked me up. xx

    Liked by 1 person

    • My mum suffers from the same and is up multiple times throughout the night. Sometimes she’s get up to pee at 4, gives up on sleep and starts cooking/doing the housework.

      Haha! I have that same conversation with my bladder but bladder always wins. (ooh, feel a new blog post coming up) As for the graphics, they’re from too much time spent in bed and not enough sleep, so thank you. (That’s last pic made me laugh when I was doing it) xx

      Liked by 1 person

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