Let me introduce you to my new BFF:

Mr. Enima. Never met him? well I was cordially introduced during a meltdown on Isle three in Food Lion today. Milk of Magnesia? Could Not Find it. There was Liquid Lemon Magnesium, and other Magna stuff but no Milk Of. There was more Colace and ExLax than I could shake a stick at but no MoM.

As I sat there, in tears, clutching my box of frozen spinach to my stomach, trying desperately not to shove it between my butt cheeks to soothe my sore bum with its icey goodness in front of the stock boys, I started to hyperventilate silently. After all, I have lost all dignity in the internet world by talking incessently about the state of my clogged ass for days, I'll be damned if I lose my Southern Lady rep at my local grocery store.

There, on the bottom shelf, winking up at me, was Mr. Enima. My mother had referred me to him earlier but I blew her off. Why would I possibly want to stick SOMETHING ELSE UP MY BUTT. I want things OUT OF MY BUTT.

In complete and utter desperation, I grabbed him (and went through the self check out line so as not to further my humiliation of waddling through the store with my ass cheeks tucked up under my spinal cord by having some teenager ring up my enima and then gossip about me when I walked out the door.

For two agonizing hours I procrastinated. I tried once more on my own, but it gets to a certain spot and becomes so painful that I know I can push it out. Quite frankly the enima terrified me though. I finally gave in. I was miserable and could not stand it (or sit) any more.

Now if you are like me and wonder how that thing is going to go up there, let me comfort you now, IT's PRELUBED! genius. I won't gross you with the details or the fact that I was so clogged I had to try twice. Fortunately, this thing is almost instantaneous. Maybe 1-2 minutes max and I was ready to go...with very little pushing. Was it wierd? OMG yes, but RELIEF. Sweet baby jesus, thank you lord, relief!

And with one little enima and bowel movement, I clogged the toilet. Why? WHY? Why should I have to deal with that TOO on top of this crap (literally?).

Anyway, it was quite impressive to say the least, and I now have NO FEAR of using an enima should the need ever arise again because those few moments of uncomfortable humiliation curled up on the bathroom floor with a gushing plastic bottle up my butt? (and the extra few moments retyping this?) are SO WORTH not walking around for four days with a painful cork.

Get thee an enima ladies. I promise. BEST FRIEND FOR LIFE! Now we can resume staring at our pretty charts and not discussing poop. YAY!