Wednesday, May 18, 2011

Don't Mind Me

So, in a perfect segue from my last post, I thought I would share this tale of "a pain in my ass" since, despite its embarrassing aspects, ends in a humorous exchange.

A couple Fridays ago, I went to go see the Dan Band in concert. Great show, it was actually the second time I've seen them perform. If you don't know who they are, they're the "Total Eclipse of the Heart" guys from "Old School." In any case, I went with a large group of friends, and the show started at 8 PM. Yeah, I know...who does that? We followed up the concert with a trip to a bar in Adam's Morgan, and next thing you know, I've been drinking pretty hard for a stretch of 6 hours.

At my advanced age (well, guess it always was this way), all this alcohol means one thing, I'm gonna have the shits. And like fine clockwork, I'm three shits into the day by noon on Saturday. It's getting raw downtown (sorry to get graphic, this post's only gonna get worse) as I proceed to take two more in the next couple hours.

I bounce back nicely with some Gatorade, and going about my normal day, but the following day, I'm out playing in my football game and my ass is seriously itching me. The itching continues, and sure enough, looks like I have a hemmorroid.

Now, I've probably gotten three hemmorroids in my entire life, and most of the time it's just a mild itching or irritation that I deal with and eventually it goes away. So, I figured this would be the same situation, and just lived with it the rest of the day. And Monday. And Tuesday. By Tuesday afternoon, it's actually hurting to move around, which was new, so I decided to pull the old Austin Powers and determine if, in fact, Preparation H does feel good...on the hole.

Sadly, not the case.

Instead, we've got blood!!! Oh shit, what the F is going on with my ass!!???

I quickly stop using the Prep H and pray for a miracle. But I continue to bleed. By Sunday of the following week, I'm starting to freak out (don't google medical ailments, there's a lot of crazy shit out there) and I do what I rarely ever do, I schedule to see a doctor.

And after all that lead-in, here's the funny part of the story.

So, I head to the doctor on Tuesday morning, and tell her (yeah, that's right) of my symptoms. She decides she's gonna need to take a look so we go to a different examination room. Since she can't apparently be unsupervised with her hands on my ass, another woman in the office is called upon to join the show. Swell.

This other woman appears to be something like a receptionist, but at this point, I really don't give a damn. The doctor instructs her to show me to the room, which is towards the end of the hall. As I walk into the room, there's a second door on the wall to my right and a third door on the back wall that leads to bathroom. In the center of the room, there's a long table, and next to that is all the doctory stuff and tons of lube. Swell.

The doctor tells the "receptionist" to lock the other doors from me, and then tells me to undress and put on a paper blanket, that's folded on the exam table, then she heads out of the room to go do something. The "receptionist" walks over to the door on the right and locks it, then awkwardly fiddles around before exiting the room and closing the door we all entered behind her. Alone in the room, I look towards the open bathroom door and wonder why the doctor said "lock the doors," yet the "receptionist" only locked the door on the right. It's just a bathroom, so I just go about my business, drop my pants, and sat down on the table with the blanket over me.

It's really thin, so my junk kinda showed through, so I tried to lift my legs up a bit, but the blanket was kinda small, so my ass and balls were likely showing. After fiddling for a few minutes, the doctor knocked on the door, I angled to the side keeping most everything covered for the time being, and in she walked with the "receptionist."

After some banter, I lay on my side for the inspection, in a borderline fetal position, with this tiny loin cloth dangling over me as best it can. It is at this moment that I realize why the doctor said "door(s)".

I hear a door opening sound from the bathroom, which is currently wide open and directly in front of me. Within 2 seconds, there's a 70+ year old woman with gray hair, that I remember seeing in the waiting room standing there, looking at me. Unsure what to do, I did what came naturally, I waved and said:

"Hi there, you can go and close that door."

Thankfully, that awkward moment passed without too much incident. Meanwhile, the doctor begins berating the "receptionist", I'm still sprawled out on the table, and with a flush of the toilet, the old woman nicely reopens the door, before exiting the bathroom through the other door she entered.

Oh yeah, don't mind me.


(That's the end of the story. So as not worry anyone, I'm fine-ish. I ended up going to a surgeon on the doctor's request later that afternoon to have a bloodclot removed and biopsied from my ass. If you never have this type of procedure done in your life, consider yourself the luckiest person in the world. I have never taken so much Vicodin, and still I felt pain. A true pain in my ass)

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