Let me begin with an apology. I’m sorry, but I must tell you about my weekend and it involves an explosion of sorts. I know, I know. I’m a lady and I shouldn’t talk about these things. I can’t help it! I come from a family of bowel-talkers; we like to chat about strange occurrences regarding the toilet, it’s fun and makes for great conversation at the dinner table.
I can promise you right now, if I felt comfortable writing about these things on a daily basis, I would have a 50% increase in my entries. I’m sure that would be coupled with a 50% decrease in readers, but hey, I can’t suppress my art.
Most importantly, this is not just an entry about a scary bathroom occurrence; it’s a warning to men and women everywhere. Dried plums are menacing and vengeful, and you must be informed of their secret weapon.
Dried plums, you ask? Commonly referred to as the “prune”, it seems the new marketing term for these gems has been changed. After spending ten minutes staring at all of the packages of dried plums at the grocery store and wondering where in the hell the prunes were, I picked up a package and actually read the label. Oh, dried plums ARE prunes! Interesting. I don’t recall naming dried bananas “brunes” or dried apricots “apricunes”. And technically, wouldn’t they be called “plunes”? Whatever. You go, Sunsweet! Way to change the way America views prunes.
I must also inform you that I am not having any issues with er, blockage of the pipes. I’ve never had that issue in my entire life; now, don’t get me started on the other end of the spectrum. Trust me. Anyway, I thought since I had officially entered the second half of my pregnancy, I should be proactive. All you hear or read about is Pregnancy = Constipation, Constipation = Pregnancy, Pregnancy = Pipe Blockage = Hemorrhoids. OK! I get it! I’ll nip this in the bud before it even starts!
So, my plan was to introduce a little more fiber into my diet daily. No biggie, just a little fiber addition. Plus, after reading Sunsweet’s glowing review of all the benefits of dried plums on the back of the package (Dried Plums have more potassium than a BANANA! Hell yes!), I was sold.
Saturday, after a long walk with my husband (the start of my bowel demise), I decided to hit the prunes. I ate 10 or 11 in about 5 minutes. Not smart. Really not smart, considering after my colonoscopy, I was diagnosed with an intestine that moves like a NASCAR event. I then ate a huge dinner about one hour later. What happened next was very uncomfortable. And I mean uncomfortable in a Jack- Bauer’s-CTU-counterpart-inhaling-nerve-gas-kind-of-way. I won’t go into details, but it involved cramping, sobbing, pacing, lying on the bathroom floor yelling to call 911 because I was pretty sure I was delivering my baby, and a lot of poop. An hour’s worth. Painful.
So, what’s my point? Well, I’m getting there. As soon as I could tear my ladylike arse away from the porcelain god, I jumped on the internet to do some research about prunes (oh yeah, I now call them prunes, the bastards). And it turns out; it really has nothing to do with fiber and everything to do with SORBITOL. Sorbitol is a completely indigestible compound that cannot stay in the body. Period. It wants out, and it wants out FAST. Surprise! Prunes have a ton of naturally occurring sorbitol compounds, which in turn, make it a powerful natural laxative stimulant.
The moral of the story? Prunes hurt and will ruin your Saturday night. Proceed with caution. The end.