Wednesday, 21 April 2010
The bum queen
I had to go to the doctor today. It was one of those appointments that you have to psych yourself up for. Not for the girlie bits, but for my bum. My regular doctor was not available. She is well acquainted with my bottom so going to see her would have been a lot easier. Instead, I had to go and see the Registrar (ours is a GP training unit). He is still learning to be a doctor, is guaranteed to be less than 25 years old and will have to be supervised by another doctor. The horror. Two strangers looking at my bottom!
I am a long term bottom sufferer. You name it, I have had it. From my year of constant Anal Fissure (AF) hell following the birth of my first child (healed when I got pregnant with my second) to a more intermittent year of AF and haemorrhoid disruptions (healed when I got pregnant with the twins) and another chronic AF after the twins (healed when I lost weight with WW). Prior to this weekend, I have been pain free for all of 4 months. I honestly can say that being able to do your ablutions without the need for Nurofen and Rectogesic is like escaping a prison for me. It has been blissful.
At the weekend, something went wrong. My closely balanced diet, exercise, fibre consumption, fluid intake equation came upstuck, and consequently, I am back in pain. The absolute horrendousness of it! I thought I was done. The pain has been of distractible proportions. I honestly can say that it is on a par with labour pain, although it is constant (not every 5 mins for a minute or two). After a number of days of this, and no help from the Nurofen or Rectogesic combination (my carefully conconcted routine for dealing with the pain of defecation) I realised that this is NOT an AF.
One moment of joy (maybe this won't go on for the next 52 weeks) and another few of horror (what could possibly be more painful than an AF and not require surgery? followed quickly by, I will have to bare my butt again). Sigh.
So I went today, saw the young doctor (who was nice about it all) who was supervised by the older doctor (who I used to work with) who both had a good look up my... well you get the picture. Anyway. The good news is, no AF. The bad news, a thrombosed haemorrhoid. If you haven't had the pleasure I hope you never do (google it!). If you have, please tell me there is a light at the end of the tunnel.
So as I slathered yet another cream onto the region this evening, I reflected on this journey with my sense of humour (as always). If you can't laugh about it... The doctor said to me to think of this everytime I found the pain unbearable (borrowed from Forest Gump) "Life is like a thrombosed haemorrhoid, sometimes it is a real pain in the *ss".
I truly am the bum queen - I even have my own motto now :)