I don't know why I feel like talking about my ass with all of you out here on my blog. I think it must be like the whole Katie Couric thing, and how she was all gung-ho about people getting colonoscopies after she lost her husband to colon cancer. It's a matter of talking about something that, yeah, can be embarrassing. But it's for the greater good.
I s'pose. :/
The thing is, I am intensely private about my bizness in the bathroom. The fight that Leo and I had the other night? It turned out that he was mad because he thought I was yelling at him for even stepping foot into the master bath (sink area is outside of the toilet/shower area), when what I was upset about was that I had just gone to the bathroom, and I thought he was watching tv for a while longer, but he came in earlier than I expected to take a shower. And I was sure he had gone into the toilet/shower area after knowing that I'd just been in there.
Turns out that he had NOT gone in there. He was respecting my space, as usual, and was just brushing his teeth.
Anyway, I'm sensitive about it. Ok? That's my point. It's a barrier that I have up, and it's one of the few barriers, really, and I think it's a fine barrier for ALL people to have, so it's gonna stay right where it is, thanks.
But that doesn't mean that I feel uncomfy talking about what's going on with my asshole right now. Whatever it is. It's like that commercial for the Midwest Hemmerhoid Treatment Center..."Don't suffer in silence" is their motto. And I have to say that I agree. Maybe this isn't something I'll bring up around the table at the next dinner party or meet up that I attend, but I will discuss it here, in writing.
As I mentioned briefly in my post yesterday, I was beyond being able to handle the pain and discomfort anymore by the time a few hours had gone by at work. So I called the health center that we're lucky enough to have at our disposal here in my office and asked if they had an appointment opening, because I needed help. And the receptionist and I chatted a bit about what was wrong, with me on the verge of tears, and she said, "Why don't you just come on over here right now? We can at least see if it's something we can help with." So I did.
And when I filled out the paperwork for the walk-in appointment, I didn't know what to put down for the reason for my visit. It would have been the first time I put it in writing, and I certainly couldn't say "my asshole is being a DICK!" Or maybe I should've. I dunno.
Anyway, when the nurse called me back, we were walking to the room where they take blood pressure and temperature, and she said, "So is it both arms that are hurting?"
And I said, "I'm sorry? What? My arms are fine."
And she said, "So you don't have pain in your arms?" And then she asked me to take a seat, which was on a cushioned chair, so I eased onto it slowly, and I said, "No. That's not what it says." And I was quiet, and I looked around as she stared harder at the paperwork, and she was quiet, and I started to cry. And she said, "OH. Oh, I see...it's ok, I see what it says." (It said, "Pain/discomfort in my anus." NOT arms. HA! I wish!!!)
And so we discussed it a little bit more, and my blood pressure was RIDICULOUS (as well it should be, I was just so, sooo mortified and sad and in pain, and dammit I would be a robot if my blood pressure was normal under all those conditions!), so she took it a second time. And then we went into a room where I calmed down a bit, and explained the situation more behind a closed door.
And then she went to get the NP. And I cried with her, too. And then I had an exam, and she was very nice, and we discussed what she found (basically nothing. Which is frustrating and a bit more terrifying, because OMGWHATTHEFUCKISWRONGWITHME???), and she prescribed something that should help until I get to see the GI on the 15th. And if it doesn't, then I can go back to them and we can talk about pain meds.
The way I see it, having dealt with the IBS for the past several years, it's almost like I'm a bulimic with the problem on the opposite end. That's how I explain it to doctors that I see...I must be doing some sort of damage with the way my intake is, um...output. On some days, anyway. It's not every day, but there are times when it happens for several days at a time, and then there are times when I'm fine for 3 or 4 days, and, actually...to be honest, that hasn't happened in a while. I thought I was doing well this week, aside from the amount of pain I'm in, and then last night and this morning happened, and no. No I am not.
So that's where I stand right now. And hopefully I'm helping someone by being this open about my issues. I wish I could have normal problems, like my personal trainer who gets hit with softballs, or slides into a base and gets an infection in the wound, and has to wear an ace bandage around 3 months out of every year. And people say things like, "Did something happen when you were playing softball again?" And we all laugh because, yeah...it did.
But no. I have to have a problem with my ASS. Of course I do. And I have to try not to walk funny, in case people notice and ask if I sprained something. Because, I don't think that's what's happening here, no. And if I take a day off work, like I did on Wednesday, I have to try not to think about what to say when people ask, "Are you feeling better?" Because nuh-uh. The answer is NO. I just can't stay home for the next 2 weeks, is all! So I'm here, pushing through the day and trying not to burst into tears. But I tell them that yes...I'm feeling better, thanks! Must have just been one of those 24 hour things I had.
I so wish it was.