A poopy post (…really)

*Do not read during lunch. 

Well, it’s been a crappy start to the new year. =}

There are numerous studies that suggest gastrointestinal issues are more common in children with autism. The reasons for this are not all clear – a compromised immune system could be at play, sensory processing issues might be a factor, etc. – but one thing is clear: my girl’s had poop problems for years.

As a result I’ve become sort of a poop professional. (I certainly deserve an honorary advanced degree in poop clean-up). I love a good poop story, and it’s fitting I’m telling one as my first blog post of the year! I have lots of photos of poop art masterpieces – one which involves a toenail-painted bare foot (… the foot was mine, the poop was hers). And once I was so intrigued by my child’s poop that I wanted a doctor to see it so I saved it in a Ziploc bag and put it in the refrigerator. Too much?

From ages 2 to 4, she suffered with chronic diarrhea. The gluten-free, casein-free diet finally stopped the muddy rivers… and made toilet training possible.

For the past year she’s suffered from chronic constipation. We’ve tried a number of things – daily laxatives, suppositories, commode chants, to no avail.

Last month we ended up in the ER because she’d been unable to go for nearly three weeks. The poor child was walking around doubled over, and oral laxatives only caused her more stomach pain. After a hefty dose of magnesium citrate even failed to do the job, we turned to the enema as a last resort.

But there was no way on God’s green earth my autistic daughter with the strength of three linebackers was going to quietly lie still while I squirted warm liquid into her rectum. Even with my fit, Army-wartime-commander husband holding her down. Not happening.

So we ended up at the hospital. I felt like a failure, bringing her in, saying she needs an enema and I really don’t want her to have to go through this here in the hospital. But we can’t do it. Autism is too big for us tonight.

But the doctor assured me they see this a lot – ASD kids with serious constipation issues. I sighed at that – sometimes it seems as if nothing comes easy for our special children.  

They did x-rays, and my poor Rhema had quite the impaction. We waited while they concocted an enema just for her. It was Hope’s birthday, and we told her it was our quarterly Russell Family Field Trip to the ER. She was psyched.

Here's Rhema (unintentionally) in the perfect position. If only I had an enema at that very moment!

It was late and B took Hope home, so I was left to do the dirty work. Ultimately, it took 4 people to hold her down and administer the enema. Rhema was so frightened and upset;  she cried and cried. The hardest part was forcing her to hold it in for 5 minutes after the enema was in. When we released her, instead of running to the bathroom, she leaned over the side of the bed and cried.

As soon as the nurses left the room, Rhema stood up and I rubbed her back. I’m not sure what happened next but all of a sudden Rhema and I, the bed, the floor, the walls, and my backpack on the other side of the room were covered. It was like a volcano exploded and was showering chocolate lava.

I yelled, “Code Brown! Code!!! Brown!!!!!!!”

(Thanks Judith).

But no one came to our rescue. Rhema just cried and let it all out right there, and I was in such awe at the sheer volume, I did what any good mama would do. I took pictures. For the blog, I mean, her scrapbook.

We cleaned up, borrowed some clothes and danced out of there 10 20 pounds lighter.

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Rhema’s relief was short lived and her intestinal issues continue. Hopefully, we will see a new gastroenterologist soon. In the meantime, we cheer and high-five for words, good listening, completed puzzles, and poop. Any little poop is celebrated.

“And when ye see the south wind blow, ye say, there will be heat; and it cometh to pass.” Luke 12:55

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