1:58 a.m. - 2006-09-13
Asteroids
Since this past Saturday, life has really been a pain in the ass. HA HA HA HA HA!!!
It's 2:00 am and I'm writing at this hour in an attempt to take my mind off the fact that I 1.) am in excruciating pain from the Percoset having worn off and 2.) still have two more hours before I can take two more Percosets.
Of all the bizarre and undesirable pregnancy side-effect situations a girl could have -- even a girl with as unfortunate luck as I seem to have -- an emergency hemorrhoidectomy was not one I had anticipated. Yet this is indeed the painful and undignified experience I had today.
I woke up Saturday morning with two of them. I've had some 'roids before -- icky and uncomfortable, but nothing a little Preparation H couldn't handle. I figured this would be the same. But after slathering on the ol' H, and trying lots of other things, including ice, hot baths, and lying around doing nothing all weekend, I realized this was different. By Sunday night, I was sobbing in agony, unable to lift myself off the sofa or get up and down the stairs unassisted. Joe called my OB to see if there was anything else I could do. Not really, she said, but she suggested that surgery might be a possibility, that sometimes it was the only cure for pregnant women. She told me to call the office Monday if I was still in pain.
Monday morning, I thought I was getting a tad bit better, but I was fooling myself. I called the OB back and got the number for a surgeon. I made an appointment for Tuesday morning, and until then, popped Tylenol and tried not to cry each time I had to lift myself out of a chair.
This morning, Joe drove me to the surgeon's office, since driving myself would require sitting, a skill I hadn't completely mastered yet. I lay down in the back instead. Once at the office, I began to lose it again, crying when I sat and then again when I got up. The staff noticed and was as nice as could be. In the exam room, I had to undress from the waist down, wrap a paper sheet around me, and lean against the table with my ass sticking out, as this was going to be the only way the doctor could examine me. I cried again at the humiliation of it all. But the doctor, this amazing and sympathetic woman named Dr. Martin, took one quick look at me and could sense my suffering. Her solution came quickly: emergency surgery, in a few hours. I agreed, and off we went.
Starting to get very sleepy here, so I'll finish up the rest of this fascinating and harrowing true tale of ass woes in the a.m.
