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probably close to a week for me, but only because of heavy opiate usage, which binds you up like crazy. you (or i did, at least) start to feel sick kinda all day long when you haven't pooped in that long. it's a weird, kinda nauseous, sweaty feeling like just something's not right; i mean, 6 days straight of half-digested food piling on top of more and more fecal blockage.. no good. but when you finally do take that dump, man.
for me, usually it starts out like so- you get a few pebbles of compacted material, and then what i like to call "the blocker"- the actualy compacted piece that was holding everything back. the blocker usually consists of a bunch of the pebbles compressed together in one round-ish unnatural shape, and is like passing a chunk of concrete or granite out your ass, sharp edges and all. THEN comes the 6 days of backup, a combination of diarrhea, soft log, maybe pebbles, whatever, in one humongously long caveman club-like mass of feces. 3/4 of it is lodged in the toilet hole, the rest is sticking out of the water like a half-sunk battleship, or perhaps a beaver dam.. i imagine it's what the titanic looked like halfway through hitting the glacier.
of course, it clogs the toilet damn near 100% of the time, and then you've got another debacle on your hands as diarrhea-stained water overflows the toilet bowl and begins to pour slowly but steadily all over the floor, as you watch in horror at the quickly rising leftover pebbles threatening to float onto the floor as well; and what can you do, until the toilet finishes its flushing process anyways? you can't stop it from refilling. you would've liked to have been wearing a shitty old pair of shorts and shoes while this is happening, but oh no, not your luck today- your socks and pant legs are starting to soak in the muddy waters as you frantically back yourself off into a corner of the bathroom, trying to avoid the quickly spreading poo-solution all over the floor. where's the damned mop?? shit, you left it in the kitchen last week- a carpeted hallway and living room away, also inadvertently threatening to soak poop-water footprints (and the rapidly approaching puddle closing in on the small space at the foot of the door) in to itself. it's one of the few times you're both metaphorically AND literally in deep shit.
i hate when that happens.
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