CAUTION: This post is not meant for younger viewers. If you are under 40, please leave now. It is the internet - the post will still be here when you are old enough.
Once upon a time, the parts of the body decided to pick a boss. The Legs said they should be the boss, as they carried everyone around. The Eyes said they should be the boss, as they made sure that everyone did not bump into things. The Ears said they should be the boss, as they make sure that important things were heard. The Arms said they should be the boss, as they were able to get food to the mouth, change clothes on all the other parts, etc. The Stomach said it should be the boss, as it digested all the food that kept all the other parts moving. The Brain said it should be boss, as it did all the thinking and kept all the other parts synchronized in what they did. The rest of the body parts spoke up with THEIR reasons for being boss. Finally, when everyone thought that the matter was ready for vote, the Asshole spoke up and said HE should be boss. All the other parts of the body started to laugh. They laughed and they laughed and laughed some more. This angered the asshole, so he clamed up and refused to work. The legs went weak, the eyes went blurry, the arms barely moved, the stomach was upset, and the brain became fuzzy and disoriented. Finally, everyone agreed that the asshole should be boss. To this day, you don't need to be a brain to be boss - just an asshole.
Now, I always thought that that was a cute story, although I cannot remember the last time I suffered through a bout of constipation! I would present, though, an alternative horror of horrors - a malfunctioning bladder. This I can relate to, currently experiencing the fear, pain & frustration of what is referred to as "bladder cancer". Now, at the moment, I am still able to pee outside when the mood strikes - so I can still drive the dogs and-other-pee-smelling-animals nuts - albeit with a slightly diminished flow and subsequent range loss, although flow and hence, range is getting better with healing. I am, tomorrow, looking with heavy anticipation to what is the first of six weekly "BCG Bladder Instillations" - a process by which live (anti-Tuberculosis) bacteria is "instilled" (don't ya' just love that word, opposite of distilled [out from]) DIRECTLY INTO the bladder.
Yay. After the treament, I have to pretend I am on a rotisserie - 15 minutes per side, repeat. Get up and GO. Don't flush, treat effluent with household bleach, leave for 15 minutes, then flush. Hope the bleach kills all the bacteria before the entire human race is infected. Sounds like a safe and harmless procedure. Right.
Drink 12 glasses of water after treatment, the instructions continue. I wonder to myself, if the intended result is to pee more often, thus flushing the BCG out, would not a more suitable pee-inducing liquid be preferred? Such as, Guinness? Gin & tonic? That nice chocolate wine that Matt (really Joanna) brought to the wine-tasting? What's with plain water anyway? I mean, good grief, I ain't dead yet, although ya' gotta' wonder if the cure isn't worse than the disease...