DISCLAIMER #1: This post is Rated PG-13. The following contains content of a graphic (non-sexual) nature that some readers may find objectionable. Parental guidance is suggested. Reader Discretion is advised.
DISCLAIMER #2: Those readers who know me in the real world may find this post to be TMI and may be well advised not to proceed.
For the rest of you:
I had an experience yesterday that I was itching (so to speak) to write about but wasn’t sure how to proceed. You see, for a while now, I’ve been experiencing a bit of physical discomfort of a… personal nature. My boo-tay was uncomfortable. There was itching and burning and tenderness that I hoped and hoped would resolve itself and go away. It was terribly uncomfortable but not nearly as uncomfortable as what I’d have to put myself through if I opted to seek medical attention. So I waited. Surely this thing would work itself out and before too long I’d be all better and wouldn’t have to humiliate myself (because clearly that’s something I’m worried about…)
I remember these commercials from when I was a kid, a woman sitting in a theater, squirming, shifting her weight form one cheek to the other, never wanting to put all of her weight squarely on her seat, the tag line reading, “I shoulda used my____________”
I’m reminded also of the scene in Austin Powers: The Spy Who Shagged Me, when Doctor Evil reveals his dasterdly plan to destroy earth using a special “la-zer” on the moon. The “La-zer” was created by The Allen Parson’s Project and was labeled Preparation H. Preparations A-G didn’t go so well, and “on the whole, [Dr. Evil] just think[s] Preparation H feels better.” On the hole.
Dealing with the discomfort I was feeling, I assumed that I was experiencing what the woman in the theater was experiencing and that Dr. Evil’s “la-zer” would solve my problems. Over the course of some weeks (a couple months – I really didn’t want to go to the doctor) I attempted to find relief using every version of Dr. Evil’s “La-zer” that was available on the market. I tried the tubes of ointment, cream and gel as well as the suppository version and wipes as compresses. Everything helped a little bit, for a little while… until it didn’t.
I spent the first 21 days of July traveling, as you most likely know by now. There wasn’t a lot of time to think about myself, and not a lot of time to spend dealing with my own issues. And then there was the flight home. I spent four and a half hours on a flight from Cincinnati to San Francisco, in a seat that was not particularly well padded. By the time I arrived in San Francisco, my pooper was not happy.
I continued to ignore the signs hoping for some divine intervention of some sort but the problem just worsened. Over the course of the week since I returned home I reached a point of not being able to sit still at all. The itch was constant, stabbing and painful, unbearable to the point of making me nauseated. Finally, I bit the bullet and made a Doctor’s appointment for yesterday afternoon.
I drove to the hospital with considerable trepidation, not looking forward to my appointment, but realizing that I had to do this if I hoped to get any relief. I parked the car and went into the medical building to find my Doctors relocated offices. As I stood in line waiting to check in, I overheard someone else asking and found out that my doctor was running behind schedule. Lovely, I thought, not only am I miserably uncomfortable and stressing over how this appointment is going to go, but I have to sit in the waiting room for a while waiting for my appointment.
I sat in the waiting room chairs, clinching and flexing, shifting and squirming, trying to ignore the itch and discomfort while I waited to be called back to the exam rooms.
Finally 20 minutes after my appointment time, I was called into the back where they weighed me (their scales are evil and indicated my weight to be eight pounds higher than my own scale said in the morning) and my blood pressure (white coat syndrome gets me every time) which came out to 139/91. I knew that my blood pressure would be high, due to my anxiety but I also knew that my regular blood pressure is lower and that this number isn’t worth worrying about. (The doctor did recheck it manually and found my blood pressure to be 105/75 – well within the healthy range.)
The Nurse then took me into an exam room where she input my information into the computer and then after determining the purpose of my visit handed me a folded blue cloth the size of a bath towel, told me to remove my pants and underpants and use the cloth to cover myself.
I did as I was told and sat down on the bed with the paper liner and picked up a magazine to peruse while I waited. I read the entire magazine while I waited for the doctor to come in. I sat, naked from the waist down and squirming for 50 minutes while I waited to be seen.
Finally, he arrived and we began our examination/discussion of symptoms and then the moment of truth, the moment I’d been dreading for so long arrived. The Doctor donned some rubber gloves while I turned and lay down on my side. And then in a matter of seconds, it was done. He barely touched me, looked me in the eye (if you know what I mean) and then was done. And then came the first of two moments that I didn’t expect and despite my discomfort made me laugh inside. Having discussed the use of Dr. Evil’s “La-zer” my doctor asked me, “Have you put anything up there today?” What a question! Then he asked me, “How do you clean your butt?” My Butt? Is that a medical term?
When the doctor walked in and asked me what was going on, I said, “I have a rash on my left Buttock that has been very intensely itching,” and, “A considerable amount of itching in the rectal area that I can only assume to be hemorrhoids.” The doctor asked me if I “put anything up there” and how I clean my “butt”. What’s wrong with this picture?
Well, it seems that I’ve painted myself into an embarrassing corner that I can’t paint my way back out of so I’ll just get to the conclusion by saying that I do not have hemorrhoids (I know you were curious) but some sort of fungal issue. The doctor gave me some creams to use and this brings us to the miraculous part. I left the hospital with my prescriptions in tow yesterday at 5:45 in the evening. I used them as instructed and already this morning, I was better. I got through the entire day today with no issues, no squirming, and no begging for relief, no afterthoughts of “I shoulda used my…” No need for Dr. Evil’s “la-zer”.
Thank God for modern medicine!