Wednesday, August 6, 2014
Yes, I know...you get tired of the butt stories. Trust me. I get tired of telling the butt stories. I especially get tired of the people who find this blog by keyword searches involving the word butt and various other words related to that word. And other less...subtle...words. Oh yeah, I know you're there you creepy perverts. I've seen the analytics. I've seen the keyword searches that lead you freaks to this place.
You fucking weirdos. Go back to your sex dungeons and rub Nutello on your pierced Iguana. Of course, we WANT to believe that right? Truth is, it's probably someone more like our CEO or our 3rd grade teachers doing the searching. THAT is truly more frightening than anything your imagination can conjure up.
But my freakish medical Hell continues, and since like Maximus Decimus Meridius I am compelled to entertain, why not share these fun stories with my Imaginary Friends? Lord knows, I don't have any real ones left. You wouldn't either if you walked around talking about your backside and other TMI type things that many fine folk just don't wanna know about.
Can I help that the nun at the Goodwill doesn't like listening to my stories? I mean c'mon man, have an OPEN MIND! Jeez...Besides, I didn't even KNOW she was a nun. I thought she was one of those Mermans or whatever you call 'em.Last nun I saw? Didn't look like that.
I've backed into this subject a couple of times before. Maybe more than that. Probably. Bottom line is this. I've got some problems with my septic system. And you know what? I'm not ashamed to talk about it openly. Some people might be. I'm not. One day I'll be openly talking about ED. And I don't mean the horse.
There is not a lot that I am ashamed to talk about. Getting my ass kicked. Trying on some women's clothes once by accident, Absentmindedly forgetting I was in a church when when I accidentally fell and just happened to, by total happenstance, have my clothes fall off and by total coincidence there was someone else of the opposite sex that by TOTAL sheer coincidence, the EXACT same thing happened to at the EXACT same time...I mean, I know the odds are extremely small but...it can happen, I was there, I saw it!
Why do I reveal these awful, awful things? Because I am a flawed human being. But at my core I know I am a good man, trying to do what's right, despite all my fumbles and bumbles, and at the end of the day there is that little tiny thing I always remind myself of (this one's for you, Richard!!!)...the man upstairs still loves me, when I am crass or vulgar or funny or late or self-centered or coarse or weird or confusing or poetic or giving or...you get the point.
Yeah I said it. So sue me. I guess I still have a little left in the tank after all.
Even when I blog about my butt because I am bored, have to sit on a special wedged around pillow and can't really get comfortable enough to sit upright and draw to do some of the things I need to get done I can find a spoonful of hope to wash it all down with. Ah...POSITIVITY. WOOHOO!!!
OK, so get this. Few weeks back I get a colonoscopy. No huge bad results, but I am told I have an internal hemorrhoid, an external hemorrhoid (Hey kind of like In Through The Out Door), and some kind of 'pore issue'. A what? I couldn't actually get a read on this one, but apparently it's like the surface of the moon down there. (The Eagle has LANDED!!!)
I asked, during my anal scoping (a procedure you have BEFORE you have a colonoscopy) if this was normal and was told it was, but it doesn't sound all that normal to me. But what happens is this...um...material can sometimes get lodged in these pores and over time build up. So that is what can cause the occasional abscess, which I had been getting lately as well as flare-ups on the 'roids. I asked why now as opposed to before, and the doctor said 'Well, Mr. Lilly, you really need to cut down on all of the anal sex.'
Now, some of you might think that is totally unprofessional. I don't.
This doctor had been talking to me about 45-50 minutes, had sized me up pretty good...made a judgment call about my personality, and didn't just go for a bunt single or a RBI double, he took a swing for the fences.
I laughed out loud.
I mean, you have your ass up in the air, exposed, you've got these strangers in the room (LAUGHING MY GOD THEY ARE LAUGHING), one of whom was really, really cute...and they are all zeroed in on your butt, your dingleberries...it's super, SUPER uncomfortable, and this guy had the savvy to analyze who I was and know EXACTLY what to say to make me laugh and make me feel at ease and know what would not offend me.
I consider that dude a friggin' genius, a risk taker and someone I will be seeing for my problems the rest of my life (if my insurance takes him, of course).
During the actual colonoscopy, Dr. Genius also reveals more of his super-enhanced intelligence. He inquires, while there is 17 miles of tubing jammed up my rectum, 'Hey Ken (by this time we HAD to be on a first name basis, don't you think?), can I ask you, do you have issues with prolonged constipation?'
I peer back, wincing...because of course I opted for minimal drugs because I wanted to experience the colonoscopy ENTIRELY LUCID so that I could be alert and aware during the procedure. I wanted to watch it on the monitor. It seemed important to me at the time that I know what was in there. IDIOT.
'How in the heck do you know that?' Note that I do not curse when I have cable in my butt.
'There is certain type of elongation and stretching in parts of the colon that is indicative of this type of prolonged constipation,' explains Dr. Genius. 'It may not be a problem for you now, but if it continues the colon starts to develop habits and it will get more comfortable as you get older with holding in. So when you need to "heed the call" whenever possible because not to do so could have long-term effect.'
I explained to him that anxiety does cause me to become constipated. Sometimes for days at a time. He did not seem surprised. No anal sex jokes either. Seemed very serious. In fact, I told him about an experience at the San Diego Comic-Con International around 2004 when I went five days without heeding the call because I was so anxious. I'm a homer, what can I say? I can't stand the idea of bombing Dresden in a strange toilet. And it is a problem.
'This is a problem,' said Dr. Genius. (See what I mean?) 'You must figure out a way to deal with this issue, especially at your increasing age. (Fuckhead!) Otherwise we could have big big problem on our hands at some point in future.'
Guess where I went around two weeks ago?
San Diego Comic-Con International.
The more things change, the more they stay the same. And while I have a whole post about that con lined up and how much the show itself has changed, what has NOT changed is how anxious I am about traveling to...well, anywhere. But especially to a convention. Even back when I was at Palisades I felt like a wannabe. I mean, the people around me? These are TALENTED people. I just do whatever it is that I do. But now? With my limited role being back in the toy industry after being gone for as long as I have?
Yeah...the anxiety started REALLY early. I held on to my poop like it was gold bricks, starting Tuesday, and I broke my personal constipation record. SIX DAYS. When I finally heeded the call?
'Big big problem.'
At first, I thought I had an abcess...it was painful, and I had some antibiotics leftover from one I had before, so I started up with those again, but this thing kept getting bigger, and bigger, and bigger. And the pain? Holy holy holy...Heaven and Earth are filled with Hydrocodone and Tylenol. As the week progressed, so did this...thing. But by the time I decided to act, it was the weekend, and I had to wait until Monday to see a doctor.
I peeked at it in the mirror prior to going. Hey, I was curious. I had to know. HOLY GOD. It was no longer just the surface of the moon. It reminded me of...you remember that Star Trek episode where Kirk, McCoy and Spock go down to some Mining Colony and they have to repair some alien with a sack of concrete?
But in the center of that alien, imagine a QUARTER-SIZED, rounded bump. It was just awful. What in the world have I done on this planet to deserve the things that come my way, huh? I just do not get it. I was so frustrated, all I could do, all I COULD do, was try to come up with something funny. So I decided to name him Buttface.
Had to see my regular doctor this time, as it would take WAY too long to see Dr. Genius. But it wasn't so bad, because this way I could kill two birds with one stone...I needed to ask him about a shoulder problem I was having.
We have a good relationship too. I guess I like doctors who are open to being real, because I tend to keep those. Stiffies I tend to discard faster than hour-old coffee. I was sitting in the treatment room naked from the waist down with one of those gowns on.
'Hey Doc...why is it you are the only man I see on a regular basis with my pants off?'
He laughed hard. 'Is that a good thing or a bad thing?'
I love this guy. Let's Call him Dr. Regular Guy. Dr. RG for short. Cause that's what he is...a Regular Guy. And I like that about him. He has been my doctor for, wow, maybe what...ten years at least. For doctors in this Age of Insurance Changes? That's impressive.
I give him the breakdown of what happened, for both issues, the shoulder problem (I can barely move it in two directions and believe it may be torn) and the...other stuff. Shoulder? He doesn't think it's a rotator cuff or anything super serious, but he will send me to an orthopedic for a full work-up.
As for the ever-expanding Buttface, Dr. RG explains that he believes it is the external hemorrhoid that Dr, Genius cited in his work-up, just aggravated to the Nth Degree. Though he suggests that I make an appointment to get in to see Dr. G when I can just to be certain since this his not his area of expertise.
I should have known that, because that WOULD be the logical thing, but I love jumping to the scariest conclusions.
Dr. RG prescribes a Special Compound, he calls it. He'll phone it in to the local Kroger Pharmacy, where they know me REAL well. NICE. And we talk about my lipids and my weight, which is actually down, I am under the 200 benchmark, 196, still with a ways to go to hit my wedding weight goal of 180, but it is really difficult to exercise with a disagreeable butt, unresolved curvature to my pelvis and a torn shoulder, an up and down Bennett. And a pissed off Buttface. Always something isn't it?
So the doc and I? We talk about the stress thing too.
I told him I was eating a mostly Vegan diet but not as strict or as efficiently as I knew I could be, and so the odds favored the fact that probably, even with that and the drop in weight? I doubted that my lipid numbers if we ran them today would be strong enough to justify keeping me OFF a cholesterol lowering medication. As much as I hate going on any new medication, as much as I keep wanting to get OFF medications I am taking, I told him I thought we should start the least invasive cholesterol lowering drug now, test in 4 months and really focus on the Vegan Way.
If the results of a new lipid panel are off the charts good? We'll back down on the drug, maybe convert to something more natural. If they are still in a questionable area? We'll know I have a problem that only medication is going to help me with for now.
Play it safe, not stupid.
That should be a motto or something. Probably is. Buttface would dig it.
Got dressed. Went home and pretty much thought that would be the end of the story.
I called the Kroger Pharmacy later that evening since I had not heard from them, and I have it set up with them to have a text sent to my phone whenever a prescription is available for pick-up. Apparently they can't make the Special Compound I need. They don't have the materials. Um...OK. And also, they can't refill the pain medication even though the doctor authorized an early refill. I asked why, and the answer was some long-winded reason I did not understand.
Dr. RG warned me about that. It's how they weed out the drug seekers. Oh well. It's just gonna have to throb I guess. I offered to show it to them if...no I didn't...I just wanted to skeeve you out if I hadn't been already.
'So how do I get this, um, Compound?'
'Well, didn't the doctor's office call you back? They said they would call you back.'
'No, they did not call me back. That is sort of why I called you. If they had called me back I would have received an answer as to how to get the Compound and would have had no reason to call you.'
'Well, maybe you should call them back.'
'Oh...OK, thanks. I hadn't thought of that. I'll give that a try tomorrow when they are actually open. Thanks!'
So I sat back on my special elevated pillow, trying not to put too much pressure on Buttface. He was really angry with me because of the driving and upped the pain and itch factors. Can't say I blame the poor guy. He was definitely getting the shit end of the stick.
The next day, before I had a chance to call the doctor's office I received a call from a place called Uptown Pharmacy regarding The Special Compound.
Now, you need to understand something about Uptown Pharmacy. It is a very old Pharmacy in Westerville, Ohio. It is so old, that it is basically the only Pharmacy that still is able to make a lot of traditional medicines. Old school. They have forgotten more more about the art of making medicine than most grocery store pharmacies will ever know. They are the place to go when you want a medicine that will get medieval on your ass.
So to speak.
The name cracks me up. I picture a bunch of monks in robes, with Mortar and Pestle, but with the pulsating beat of the Bee Gee's Night Fever echoing through the halls of the Apothecary, and a single, shining disco ball, twirling in the center of the chamber. Going UPTOWN, baby! Woo-Hoo! Time to make the medicine!
Buttface tells me to get my head out from between my cheeks and pay attention to the phone call.
'Hello, Mr. Lilly? Hi there. We have your prescription, and we are missing two key ingredients. One is across town we'll have that soon. The other we had to order it will be here tomorrow. So we should be able to start working on the compound tomorrow which means you'll have it by the earliest tomorrow, Thursday at the latest.'
I'm thinking....Missing two...Thursday at the latest?...WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS COMPOUND!?!?!
I calmly thank the Evil Alchemist and hang up, but my fear over what I am to be sticking up my butt overcomes me and, hands trembling, I call my doctor's office to talk to one of the nurses.
'Well, Ken, they are making essentially a nitroglycerine cream. Did they tell you about the possible side effects?'
'Nitro---, Um...no they didn't. You mean like don't light my farts on fire?'
Strained laughter on the other end.
'No, there is a chance it could burn a little, and you may get some rather intense headaches.' (SUPER!!!!)
'And after application make sure you wash your hands thoroughly.' (WELL THAT'S A GIVEN.)
'Oh and one more thing...it is important that you use this cream SPARINGLY.'
'Waitaminute. You are aware of the size of this thing right? I was thinking of making a fake version of it like a puppet as a gag and doing something funny of it on my blog, you know, for laughs, and calling it Buttface...'
Strained laughter on the other end.
'...so if it is that big...how do I use it sparingly AND cover the whole thing?'
'I think the point is that they just don't want you to glob it on'
'OH I understand. No GLOBBING. Wouldn't want to blow myself up. GOTCHA, thanks.'
OK, I admit, I made that last part up a little. I didn't actually tell the nurse I was going to make a Buttface puppet. Buttface made me write that. But I did question the sparingly part. And she did say the globbing thing.
I am just...exasperated over this. It is the end of the day Wednesday, my ass hurts like Hell, there is still no Blow Your Butt to Bits Compound, I am uncomfortable, and they won't even give me anything for the discomfort because I, by my own admission, went off my prescription and took a few extra doses of pain medication and am a few days short, despite the fact that the doctor wrote a new prescription, called the pharmacy personally, RAISED the prescription amount, and I have no history of doing this.
'THAT'S BULLSHIT DUDE!'
Yeah Buttface, I know. I know. Sorry you have to suffer little guy. Though...you're not so little now, huh? My, you...you've gone and gotten yourself all grown up! Look how big you are. In fact...I've been thinking...you and me...we've been together a long, long time, and it's...well, it's just been real swell. But do you think you're ready to head out into the world, make a fresh start, and maybe start living your own life? Without attachments?
You think you could handle that big guy?
Waddya say, pal?
Yeah, that's what I thought.
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