He knew the first rule: do not eat. Do not drink a full glass of water. You cannot push a cork down a full bottle. Instead, he shuffled to the kitchen, poured a warm cup of peppermint tea, and sat down. He took tiny, rabbit-sized sips. Warm liquids acted like a gentle lubricant. He avoided cold water—his surgeon had told him cold shocks the bowel into a spasm.
Gently, so gently, he placed his palm beside Buddy. He did not press hard. He used a soft, circular, clockwise motion, like he was polishing a priceless antique. He was trying to encourage the trapped food—likely a fiberous string of green bean or that rogue almond—to wiggle loose. He visualized the blockage: a tiny raft stuck in a river. stoma blockage what to do
He knew this feeling. It wasn’t the normal gurgle of his ileostomy. This was the enemy: a blockage. He knew the first rule: do not eat
He smiled in the dark. Crisis averted.
Leo felt the pressure in his abdomen release like a popped balloon. The colicky pain vanished, replaced by the dull ache of relief. He cleaned up, applied a new pouch, and drank another small cup of tea. Instead, he shuffled to the kitchen, poured a
He realized that if the warm bath, massage, and "splosh" hadn't worked after two hours, or if he had started vomiting, he would have been in the car to the ER. A complete blockage can lead to a ruptured bowel or severe dehydration. There is no shame in the ER. Pride doesn't digest fiber.
The clock on the nightstand read 2:47 AM. Leo lay perfectly still, one hand pressed against his lower abdomen, the other gripping the edge of the mattress. A cramping, colicky pain was building—a wave of pressure that would crest, hold for a terrifying second, and then ebb, only to return a minute later.