Over the past week I have been plagued with a very painful thrombosis hemorrhoid. Ever since I was pregnant I have experienced hemorrhoids occasionally but never like this one. An a$$ bubble has overtaken my bottom and has been sucking my will to live. I have decided to name this thing George. It is kind of weird, like that odd moment when guys name their penises and everyone in the free world wonders why. You go through a rite of passage and suddenly this appendage on your body has a name.
Yesterday George was mad as hell and finally blew a gasket. My a$$ bubble had taken on a life force of its own. It grew so big that it exploded. It was not a pretty sight and lets just suffice to say that the aftermath scared the living be Je$us out of me. My bottom never in recent memory ever hurt so badly. There was blood and a lot of it. Naturally I freaked out. What to do? I called the doctor. He didn’t have time to see me and told me to go straight to the emergency room. The thought of explaining to perfect strangers just what my damage was didn’t appeal to me. I called “Ask a Nurse”. That lady freaked out and was ready to dispatch an ambulance. Oh hell no!! I had visions of fire trucks, police cars, and an ambulance speeding to my house with sirens wailing and flashing lights and the whole neighborhood turned out to watch the spectacle with flipping cameras and popcorn. No thank you! I would find a way to get to the hospital myself. The only problem was I was dizzy from loss of blood. Could I drive that far? Did I have a choice? In the end I drove to a friend’s house and she took me while offering her husband up as a baby sitter. Thank G0d and sunny Je$us above for both of them.
When I finally reached the emergency room I was at a loss for what to say when they asked what exactly was ailing me. I had no words. Fortunately my friend has had some medical training and promptly saved me by telling the person in charge piously I was bleeding from the rectum. When it was my turn to meet up with a doctor he told me the worse piece of news yet.
He was going to see what was going on down there. Nervous in my service I explained that I was mortified that the first and probably only time we would meet in this lifetime he was going to have to look up my a$$hole. He took it in stride. The nurse asked the doctor “Would you like to lube up first?” He calmly replied “No, I don’t think so.” What the hell and sonny Je$us? Are you kidding me? To say I freaked out is an understatement. I frantically pointed out that excuse me there was ALWAYS time for lube. I didn’t even go to medical school and I have enough sense to KNOW that if you are going to stick your finger up some poor soul’s a$$ you should lube up. My frantic pleas hit home and he had the good sense to lube up before invading George‘s personal space.
They took my blood pressure and that is when hell broke loose. It was dangerously high and in that instant George was almost forgotten. Blood work was ordered along with an IV. The lady paid to take my blood arrived on the scene first. She took one look at me and decided the person starting the IV could have the pleasure of poking me and left as quickly as she came. In strolls the lady prepared to torture me. She searched for a vein and couldn’t find a single one. I made fists as she smacked my arm around and then my hand. Not deterred she left and returned with a hot towel and wrapped it around my arm. After my arm was thoroughly hot she proceeded to go digging for veins again. After several painful pokes I couldn’t help but ask if she had found a vein yet. At that point she said something that startled me even worse than the thought of my sore a$$ being probed. Evidently my veins were running away from her and she couldn’t get them threaded. What?? Veins run away? Where the hell are they going to go? I quickly spoke up “Obviously my veins don’t like you if they are running from you. You better FIND someone else to have a go!” The expert was called in and she had no problem managing to draw blood with one poke without batting an eye. They obviously gave up on the IV which was fine by me.
Finally the doctor returned to inform me just what he planned to do about my conditions after assuring me there was no sign of cancer, liver or kidney damage, or internal bleeding. He ordered blood pressure medication which I probably can look forward to swallowing for the rest of my life since my numbers were so alarming I was on the verge of a stroke. He informed me he didn’t make a practice of slicing off hemorrhoids so George was safe to fade away on his own. Armed with a strategy to conquer and defeat George, prescriptions for more blood pressure and pain medication I was sent on my merry way.
It was an all time low for my bottom. Slowly and surely I will heal and regain my strength. I thanked the doctor for being so kind. I thanked my friends for helping with my kids and helping me face an ultimately embarrassing ordeal that needed to be faced. I thanked G0d that I now know I will not die from my a$$ bubble. That would just be more than this ole heart could bear until next time when I give you another glimpse into the life of a trucker’s wife.