A Crappy Wednesday

Chris sat in a gray plastic chair and turned away from the exam table to avoid what he was about to see.  We’re not chocolate starfish players, so he really, and I mean really did not want this view. He was there in the room with me at the colorectal surgeon's office for two reasons: I’m half deaf and I was totally stoned on Ativan.

I had to be.  They don’t have an open bar at these places. I mean, they really should, given what they do to you.

So, with my anxiety being held at bay by 1mg of Ativan, I pulled my dress up and lay down on my left side, knees bent so the doctor could determine what theverlovingfuck was going on with my butthole. I prefer to say butthole rather than anus because anus sounds so snakey like you should hiss at the end of the word.

Like many people, I had avoided this appointment for YEARS, which was stupid.  No one I know, including myself, is really eager to have a rectal exam.  As a survivor of sexual abuse, I really really really, I cannot stress enough, really did not want to do this. Thus, the Ativan.

But here I was.  No pun intended. The doctor lubed up and began his examination.  He asked questions about how long the symptoms had been going on while he was investigating.  I will spare you those details. He poked and prodded and at one point used something metal to open up the area a bit.  I felt like I was the losing guy on an episode of Impractical Jokers.

And then, when I thought I was going to have to dig my right thumbnail into my left thumb, my go-to move to tolerate medical or dental discomfort, the doctor told me to sit up.  He was done with the exam.  It was nowhere near as uncomfortable as thought it was going to be.

I positioned my paper “blanket” over my upper thighs and turned to face the doctor.  He explained that I have a fistula, not the never-ending hemorrhoid I thought I had.  Honestly, I should’ve bought stock in Preparation-H with as much as I used it.  I kept hoping they would come out with Preparation-I because H was not doing the trick. You probably didn’t want to know that about me. I apologize if you are reading this while eating.

So, the verdict is that I need surgery and I will have that surgery next month.  I will be entirely out of it for that – thank the universal kittens. The recovery from this will be challenging given the area and the function of said area.  I should probably order one of those donut pillows now. 

I’ll keep you all posted.