My stomach is not ready for post-COVID life
A couple of weeks ago my roommate and I were watching an episode of Curb Your Enthusiasm. Season nine episode one, “Foisted!” to be exact. In one scene, Larry David’s assistant returns to work after being missing for two days. After a sarcastic “welcome back” from Larry who assumes her absence was an unapproved vacation, she corrects him by explaining that she in fact wasn’t relaxing because she was constipated. They had a quick and witty back and forth, as Larry obviously thought constipation was not an adequate reason to dismiss work given the number of people that struggle with it on any given day (not excluding Mr. David himself on his wedding day). The banter ended with his assistant saying that although her bowel issues weren’t completely solved, she would “soldier on” in the office. Even though Larry’s assistant was the butt of the joke, and her constipation-induced absence was what prompted him to try to pass her along to assist someone else, I had immediately never felt more seen by a TV show in my life. And from the way my roommate was yelling at me from the other side of the couch, I know he saw the parallels, too.
If you’re new here, I’ve dabbled in my fair share of stomach issues over the past few years, especially ye ole constipation. 2020’s only redeeming quality was that my isolation at home gave me a chance to develop routines to manage my symptoms. Since my day-to-day schedule was so consistent (as it was: nothing), I was able to dig deep into my colon and face my constipation head-on.
I eventually established carefully curated morning and evening routines that ensured the least amount of pain and the most optimal bowel movements. My mornings consisted of an amount of water suitable for an in-ground swimming pool, an intricate cocktail of my favorite anti-inflammatories and probiotics, some light exercise to promote movement, and coffee or matcha followed by patiently sitting knees-to-chest (or “hunkering down” as I often refer to it) for as long as it would take for my bowel to move, usually a half-hour to 45 minutes. I’d follow that with an evening of supplements, prunes, digestion-targeting yoga, another pool-load of water, and bed at an early hour.
If anything was missing from my morning or evening routines, my whole system would be off-kilter and my colon would refuse to empty itself. I followed my routines to a T for over a year, and at times it felt like I had finally gotten my stomach under control, as tedious as my regimen might have seemed.
As life begins to open up again, my schedules and formulas are more often getting messed with. The first hints of conflict showed themselves regarding my evening routine. Going out to bars after dinner has already returned as a common pastime for my roommates and friends. Having drinks at a bar is not part of my evening system. Where will I do my post-dinner-digestion-provoking yoga? Certainly not on the floor of The Abbey. What if I have a bout of gas at the bar? No one will want to stand within five feet of the girl who is stinking up the dance floor. Twice now I’ve turned down spontaneous after-dinner drinks due to stress-induced indigestion, instead opting to lay in bed in the fetal position cradling my hydroflask like it was my firstborn.
My morning routine is still sacred, but I know it is just a matter of time before it goes out the window. And that formula is arguably more important, as it’s the one that ends in a glorious, earth-shattering bathroom visit. Even when waking up at 7 in the morning, my whole routine start-to-finish doesn’t leave me ready to start my day until roughly 9 AM. That’s not factoring in having to look presentable, an eventual commute, and any other things a job will demand of me. I already know that my entry into the workforce will be joined with a nasty bout of constipation, but unfortunately I won’t have the same luxury of Larry David’s assistant to just not show up.
So what is the moral of all of this? Why did I make you once again read about the trials and tribulations of my intestines? I guess that’s to be determined. These issues aren’t close to being solved, but I’ll eventually get used to them. I am unfortunately a creature of habit who hates change (can you tell?) and lives for structure. I feel personally threatened by anything that stands in the way of my groove and love when everything is in its place. But alas, I dealt with irregularity in pre-COVID times, so I will have to “soldier on” and make do once again, as it literally is my only option.
