Always talking s**t, that's us

The chocolate cake looked sumptuous in the catching rays of the afternoon sun. I slid the knife through the dark seductive surface and the liquid chocolate began to pool around the base of the brown succulent treat. I took a slice, engaged my mouth and we all sat in the coffee shop eagerly picking up again the conversation of the Bristol Stools Chart.

I'm talking about the unusual, strange, frank conversations between parent-carers (no politics for once) 

For parents of disabled children, nothing too toxic or un-natural is off the menu. In fact, most of the topics look like items on the menu. Children with complex needs or disabilities are obviously more prone to bladder and bowel conditions, so we all often culminate in a get together in a local eatery over lunch where anything goes and rightly so.

last Monday we visited friends and over lunch in a prominent high street cafe, compared stories of urine infections and constipation. My daughter and her friend both sat on a separate table discussing operational procedures like seasoned surgeons. All this as overhearing customers around us paused or balked at the thought of another gooey centered muffin. Like mothers groups we meet anywhere to talk frankly and so we should, there is no shying away from s*** talk....ask any politician (especially as the election looms like Grampus around Christmas) To be able to be so honest and personal is cathartic, a release and a testament to our communities strength.

When your child is born nappies are a constant, but for parents of disabled children like us, the issue of toileting may not stop after a few years. In fact, for some, it becomes so constant that we roll our eyes when some parents endlessly complain about potty training. Not all disabled children require a lifetime of catheterisation or suppositories, but for many of us, it becomes such a day to day part of life you wonder at what point did we lose our gag reflex.

Why do we talk about it openly? Well, as ever watching guardians we need to be able to spot or smell infections or blockages that take place as it could be pivotal in discovering a contagion. We are a resource for each other, we share experiences. We smell pull-ups, change bags, even note colour changes whilst happily devouring a biccie with one hand and juggling a cuppa in the other. There is no reason why we shouldn't openly discuss this in the high street as staying in the home environment perpetuates isolation, mental health and more. As a community we are often marginalised, we feed off contact and information, it could save a life. We need and deserve to be part of the wider world, we all need a break however much we love the stardust and atoms of our children.

The conversations we have are not restricted to us adults either. Our children, regardless of any communication issue often join in the chat. Our daughter constantly laughs at the sometimes uselessness of the catheters and she compares the taste of Movicol to watery dust. Emily finds orange calpol the devils' work and offer her liquid antibiotics and she will clip your ankles. Half her tablets taste like the very worst sour bomb sweets and she is getting to the age now where she is getting fed up with a constant, daily assault of medication.

So, greater society, while you eavesdrop enjoy your muffin and your mocha, educate yourselves on how complex, rewarding, stressful, unique and sometimes comical our world is. We are parents just like you, but our lives are wired a little differently. Poop talk is very much part of British humour so why not join in? come join "Bowel Weekly" and tell us your s**t stories.

..now, should that deposit look that green?