Leo lay back down. Buddy let out a happy little burble. The pouch crinkled as it began to fill.
Don’t panic, he whispered to himself, repeating the mantra from his discharge papers. Panic clamps the gut tighter than any blockage.
He then tried the trick his ostomy nurse, Brenda, had taught him: The Splosh . He took a 60ml syringe (without the needle) filled with warm tap water. Gently, he inserted the tip into the opening of his stoma. Not deep—just the tip. He slowly, slowly depressed the plunger. A few drops of water went in. He waited. A gurgle. He did it again. This wasn't a flush; it was a "lube job."
The clock on the nightstand read 2:47 AM. Leo lay perfectly still, one hand pressed against his lower abdomen, the other gripping the edge of the mattress. A cramping, colicky pain was building—a wave of pressure that would crest, hold for a terrifying second, and then ebb, only to return a minute later.
He smiled in the dark. Crisis averted.