The Royal Thrown ( toilet)

You know you are a V.I.P. when many people care how much you pee and when you poop. After many years of feeling insignificant in this great big world, I suddenly became the center of many professional people's interest.
If you haven't guessed yet, I was recently a surgery patient in a local hospital.
It begins the moment your transferred from surgery to a regular room. Every half hour, someone is inspecting the surgery site, testing your vitals (pulse, blood pressure, lung sounds), they hang new bags of fluid, they ask you your pain level, they ask if you have "voided yet." Answering no, I almost felt their palpable disappointment. Then there is the extra medicine which must be injected either into the main line in my hand or into my belly.
One bright light, they put me on a continuous morphine drip with the button to push for an extra dose every six minutes (yeah, I was high but the pain was down to a three (1-10 scale).
Now back to the pee and poop. After gingerly getting down off the bed for the first time, I got to the bathroom and peed in the plastic receptacle. This container was routinely poured into a measuring cup and notated on a pee volume chart.
First special moment, my urine was important enough to my care that it was precisely measured and notated. I made sure to always pee in the plastic insert and not the water so they're measurements would not be off.
The poop became the stuff of hospital legend. You see due to my type of surgery, I was not allowed to leave the hospital until I had the legendary first bowel movement. I began receiving daily laxatives. I walked alot, as I was told that would help. Every day, lots of gas but no bowel movement. A little joke from the exhusband, "a fart is just a terd whistling for the right of way." Anyway, every new nursing shift (every 8 hours) my new nurse inquired as to my bowel movement. The doctor upped the laxative power, new more potent stuff, meant to open up the clogged drains. But with all the walking . . still nothing.
Do you know what it is like to be on "poop watch." As I rounded the nurses station on my many daily walks I felt them talking about my lack of pooping. I wanted to do it for them but especially for me as I was ready to leave the confining walls of my little room and the hall corridors.
Well, halleuha one precious moment some poop came out.
During the nurses next visit I was able to answer yes to the "did you have a bowel movement" question. Well her reaction was so excited, "good, and she went to inspect just to see for herself." Word spread like wild fire, every medical professional, including my doc who entered my room after that, congratulated me on my going. It brought me back to my early potty training when mommy and daddy had a celebration over that first non-diaper poop.
I was doubly rewarded by my doctor's release from my hospital captivity. Yeah for the poop! Halleluah, congratulations, good job, you finally did it; these were just a few of the accolades I received from all levels of the staff.
Now back home, they don't care how much or how often I pee and they don't even want to know if I poop.
Oh well, back to obscurity. A regular person. No more "Royal Thrown" treatment. But it sure made me feel important while it lasted.