A Pain in the Ass (surgery story part 2)

Do you like hospital gowns, multi-part episodes, and censor bars? This week I continued the epic surgery story saga and I did an illustration. Hopefully, it will not get me in too much trouble (think of the children!). Enjoy!

Last week I talked about an ER visit that led to two surgeries in a month which was a new record for me (overachiever). It was a month of anxiety, dark humor, pain, healing, loss, and a better outcome than I could’ve imagined. The whole month was an emotional overload for more reasons than just surgeries, reasons that I will talk about at some point in the distant future. Anyway, let’s get to the first surgery and title of this article.

The thing about Duchenne and maybe just degenerative diseases, in general, is you get used to losing abilities. You get used to things only getting worse. That doesn’t mean giving up or that life can’t be meaningful, fun, and beautiful. It’s just that life goes in one direction and seldom deviates from that, at least in my case. 

OK here is where you will start to learn too much about my body. I have had hemorrhoids for over a decade. That doesn’t seem like a big deal but the things I could do to fix them were, well, impossible. I had a very regimented routine and if I did all of it every week I wouldn’t be in pain. This worked for years until my body got weaker. My intestines got so bad that gas would push on my lungs and make it extremely difficult to breathe. That was my life for years and I learned to accept it.

The surgeon we met with thought she knew what it was, and it turned out she was right. The thing I thought I was treating for years was not hemorrhoids, but something called a fistula (A second butt exit?). The surgery was pretty uneventful. I think they had the varsity team for the first surgery because they were done in about 30 minutes. The only thing of note was that I had to argue with the anesthesiologist to not allow chest compression if something went wrong. At this point, my bones are more decorative than serving any structural purposes (He should know he was an engineer). Chest compressions would result in most of my bones being broken even if they restarted my heart outlook would be bleak. The doctor eventually changed his mind because, of course, I was right (sure I bet you were really confident). 

The truly amazing part besides no pain happened the next morning during my daily number 2 (TMI!!). I had the best and fastest bowel movement of the last couple of years! No pain, it was easy, and I farted. That may sound dumb and gross but for the first time in decades, a part of my body got better. I didn’t think even something small like pooping would ever get better. It did and I can’t adequately describe that feeling. I didn’t want to do this surgery. I could tough it out. It wouldn’t help and what was the point? I have never been happier to be wrong in my life. Not all the time trust me but sometimes things turn out for the best. Sometimes a pain in the ass can be fixed.

I’m splitting this post into three parts instead of two. I want to say I did it for artistic reasons but really it was because I procrastinated. I hope you still got something out of this. I love telling you all my dumb stories. Thanks for reading! 

Until next time crips and non-crips, I believe in you!