heatherbeck
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Lower Abdominal Issues.
🕑 Added 2025-04-26 10:34:02 +0000 UTCYears ago, I had a buddy who was an ER doc. He worked the night shift. It was a decent-sized city, and while there were a few big hospitals, this was the one that was most central to the population, so it got folks from all walks of life. Kids with fevers, folks with lacerations, general trauma, cardio issues -- all that stuff that just kinda happens in the middle of the night, and needs immediate attention.
It was a military town, too. Now, I've got nothing but respect for our service members, but if you are reading this, and if you were in the armed forces for any length of time, you probably know that... well, heck. Military towns always have a wild party scene, and kids do stupid shit. (This was back when most bars in town would serve you if you were 18 and in uniform, screw IDs, and alcohol plus youth is always an interesting combination.)
There were a few gems, my doctor buddy had. The time that an old woman came in complaining of some profound distress in her coochy; examination yielded a quarter of a potato that had been inserted up there weeks ago, and forgotten about. (Not entirely looney-tunes, as the starch from a potato can be employed to fight a yeast infection. It's not ideal, but it's an old folk remedy thing.) There were some popped breast implants; folks who jumped off the roof of a house and missed the pool; some objectively depressing stuff, for sure; and no lack of patients presenting with LSD-induced delusions that they had been impregnated by Jesus, or... Heck, I dunno. Pick whatever you'd like that House M.D. might have stumbled across during clinic duty. I'm pretty sure he saw it all.
And one thing he saw, more often than anyone would like to think... Is stuff that got stuck up inside somebody's butt.
Not a week would go by, he said. It was actually kind of odd, if a whole week went by, and someone didn't come in with something stuck up inside their butt.
The reasons offered, as they pertained to why things were stuck up inside of so many butts, were far more consistent than the sheer variety of things that were stuck up inside of butts.
Bottles, usually. Beer bottles. But sometimes, wine bottles. I can kind of imagine the former, but I mean, a wine bottle? That's just impressive. That takes dedication.
One anecdote that sticks out (there's a joke in there) [did I just make a triple entendre?!], is the leg from a couch. Some '70s era couch leg, that could unscrew from the couch itself, and when inverted, was this sort of steep pyramid in shape. The reason for as to why it got stuck up this particular patient's butt was not too dissimilar from so many of the other butt-stuckage reasons offered during the course of this Doc's career: usually, the person tripped and fell on it.
If such a thing is to be believed on any regular basis, then we live in a terrifying world, indeed: a world in which objects litter our homes that are varying degrees of butt shaped, and we're all only one unacknowledged puddle away from slipping, falling, and landing anus-down on a half-empty bottle of Maker's Mark (ouch, especially!) or...
See? This is where the "Whoopsie, I just fell on it" argument starts fall apart. Because, according to my buddy, some 25% -- one-freaking-quarter of all cases of patients presenting with a "rectal foreign body" -- were, from his mas-o-menos, light bulbs.
Here's the thing. If you have something stuck up your butt, just say you do. Doctors see it more often than you would think, and it's their job to fix you. You're not going to fool anyone, because in the history of this world, nobody has just slid on some soapy water in the shower, and ended up with a bottle of Head & Shoulders rammed up their bum. (As far as Doc was concerned, stick whatever the hell you want up your butt, just make sure the bottom is way wider than the top, so you don't have to hit up the hospital at all [and heck, in THIS economy?!]).
And avoid glass. Tricky thing about glass, is it creates suction, so it's harder to get out. So, they have to string a straw up there, and pry it out. (Did you know the human anus can stretch to 7 inches in diameter? I wish I didn't know that! But I do, and now, you do too!)
But light bulbs... Those are tricky. Because they're so fragile, you know? And if one breaks while it's stuffed up inside of your pooper, well, now you're looking at some pretty fucking solid butt surgery!
Just get a butt plug, and call it a day. Track one down on Facebook Marketplace.
I say all of this because I've been thinking about lower abdominal stuff lately. I didn't get a lightbulb stuck up in my butt, or a gerbil, or for that matter, anything at all. Which is cool.
But what had happened was... There's this vestigial little dongle toward the end of your colon. Used to be a bigger deal, but now, it just kinda hangs out, not really doing anything. Until it gets inflamed. Which, apparently, it does all the time, but it usually goes back to normal. Until it doesn't.
So, yeah. A couple of weeks ago, I start feeling like 50 shades of hell. Fever, sick, cramps, nausea, all that stuff. Gets to the point where I go to my local hospital in the middle of the night, and am promptly informed that my appendix is not in a great way. Didn't take too much longer to discover that the damn thing had already burst.
It's not fun. My dad, I'm told, had appendicitis in his 20s. His didn't burst, but by the time he got it remedied, he looked like he was 9 months pregnant. In my case, 24 hours, boop, no externally noticeable physical difference.
Sepsis ain't great. But doctors do what doctors do, and I did find myself, again, impressed with the quality of Mexican health care. (If you ever get appendicitis, come on down to Mexico and get it taken care of!) (I'm kidding, go to a hospital, now!) They cleaned me out, put me on antibiotics, and I got a bitching scar, which is almost all healed.
I imagine you might be wondering. The girls were a curiosity. I have thought about them just kinda splayed to my sides while the procedure took place. I do hope that a few comments were made, at least, by the surgical staff, and that the comments were funny. And my surgeon, bless his gentle heart, was very delicate in telling me that it would be especially important for my to stay off my feet for as much time as humanly possible, because with the weight I carry so disproportionately, extra stress would only impede the healing process, and this, and that...
So yeah, Nat and Olga have been bitchy little bitches. And I've been a bitchy little bitch, too, because I've basically spent the last two weeks in bed. I have a few really lovely friends here, who have gone out of their way to make sure I'm all stocked up on the essentials, so I haven't had to fend completely for myself. But, I'm also one of those stubborn asshats who makes a terrible patient. Call it a mixture of the type of guilt that comes from being equal parts Irish and German ("Well, thank yeh, me darlin,' now get ze fukk aought uv heearugh!"). So, it's nice to be back on my feet. (It's also VERY nice to eat normal food again.)
So, that's the nuts and bolts of it. I know I mentioned this on the Medias Social recently, but I am very much looking forward to getting back to posting regularly -- part of the frustration is that the most well-laid plans kinda got delayed. But please expect those shortly.
And, you folks know who you are, but if you've been wondering what the actual fuck happened to your girl Heather, please know that I am thinking of you now, and will be in touch shortly.
How to wind up the update? Well, while energy levels have prohibited me from doing much formal work lately, I will give some hints. Lord knows you've earned them:
That movie I mentioned on IG? That's actually creatively going forward. It's a dystopian semi-erotic romp that A24 would just love, I'm sure. More to come.
Mamorabilia.com will launch... fuck, I mean, all the pieces are there. I'm giving myself a hard deadline of... I'm not gonna make false promises again. But you guys will get advance notice before the general public does.
I'm making a 'zine. It's fucking fun, and remarkably, its kept me sane over the last couple of weeks. Doodling has been a reprieve.
I also, and this is interesting... I think I might have invented a single-player card game about dating? And damn-me for a fool, but I think it might actually be... really, really fun? So who knows, maybe I'm getting into tabletop entertainment? (Cool your jets, Cassanova. ;-) )
And finally getting All the Tiers here into maximum shape. I really can't tell you how much I appreciate your patience, y'all. Your presence here is always voluntary, but your presence keeps me going. I want to make sure your investment of attention, time, and resources is paid back with the kinda stuff you signed up for. Thank you, and I love you.
Here's hoping that no ruptured spleens are on the horizon! (And thanks for sticking with me through the vivid medical descriptions of butt stuff!)
XOXO
Heather
Comments
Scorched Earth
Wishing you a speedy convalescence and a full recovery.
martin allen
I have to say this much--even tangential as it is, life around you is never dull. Maybe I need to get out more often--and--maybe not. Between my mother, a nurse, and her experience, and my own lack of visits to an ER, apart from the rare need for stitches, I am a relative stranger to the apparently average ER experience--and I am more than fine with that. Anyway, thank you for the updates, I hope you're well and truly on the mend, and I look forward to your future updates. I actually never would have thought that the physics of keeping your balance would have ever been a factor, but then, I'm still sturdy enough that I can still stand up in one, needing no 'assistance', save a chair or couch being a little too 'recessed'. And yes, anytime in future I encounter such a couch, I'm going to make damn sure I ask--''Are you sure JD Vance 'never schlepped here''?
