29 July 2007

Piles and piles of it

I cannot believe I am going to write this post but it's all too ludicrous for me not to, how could I resist it.

You know those sturdy families who are never ill, hardly ever visit a doctor, laugh at the mere notion of hospitals? That's not us, I'll not bother you with our medical history but suffice to say we have a very costly gene pool and my being a preemie atop a very special psoriatic immune system didn't help things much. One of the things both my parents had in the past and now seem to have outgrown is piles. I, however, seem to lately have adopted theirs, combined. Now, everyone thinks piles are absolutely hysterical and why yes, there's nothing that makes me laugh nearly as much as having a throbbing venous walnut firmly protruding from my arse. I have noticed an increase in the past few years, it used to be very sporadic. I remember one fine Seder 3 years ago where I kept talking and smiling and wishing I could just create a new religious reason for me to recline the whole bloody time, I could barely walk by the time it was over. Small ones are not too bad, a nasty one means a trip to the doctor where, I assume, he draws the clotted blood from the pile and maybe injects something else in it, not sure, was always too distraught to ask. Now, considering a pile is just a bulgeing vein you can imagine how much fun it is to have a needle stuck in it. It's also mostly always in the same place so I think it's abt time someone cut that bit off, cautherised it, deepfroze it, anything.

Anyway, this is not the ludicrous bit. The ludicrous bit is, I read in a blog by a South-African medical student how they handle piles for instant relief, and it sounded good, it made sense. I mean, I could see how the inflammation would be reduced and the whole thing numbed anyway, and yes, relief. Soooo..... What you do is, you take a latex glove, tie off al fingers but one, fill it with water and freeze it. Once it's frozen and you have just the one finger sticking out you lube it and basically gently insert it up your arse.

Yes, yes, you may laugh. I know I would. But you haven't even heard the worst.

Oh wait, bfr I tell you abt the worst let me quickly tell you abt The Worst! I was still living with my then boyfriend and during one of my piles episode I was talking to my mother abt it, and this was the conversation that the aliens who abducted mother and gave her a brain-transplant forced her to have with me:

Mum - Oh sweetie, I'm so sorry, you must be in such pain.
L - Yes, this one is bothering me a lot.
M - You're not having anal sex now are you?
L - *Bleeding from ears along with anus now*
M - ...Hallo?
L - ... Mother... *feebly* What???
M - Well, that would make it so very worse, I hope you're doing what's best for you.
M - Darling, I'm simply trying to help, I'm your mother, why are you so upset?
Yes mother, that was helpful. Every daughter should have the chance to discuss the pros and cons of anal sex with her mother, I'm only sorry you didn't think to put father on the line as well.

Anyway, back to the worst. I had told then-boyfriend abt this and that he'd need to help me with the inserting bcs it sounded horrific anyway [piles in the way, oh God, PILES IN THE WAY!] but doing it blindly must hurt like the bloody hell. He laughed and said all right, he would - he became very empathetic after having seen the first one, Blimey, this is what piles look like? That looks painful! - but even during some very bad piles it hurt me to simply think of it so in the end I never did do it. But I was sitting here reading a while ago and I could feel a formerly small one turning into a beast. Well, it may not be the wisest thing to compromise your venous supply by sitting on a pile that is forming but I convinced myself surely this time a little pressure would not be a bad thing? Of course it was and since I don't have any medication in the house I thought I'd give the Ole Finger a try.

Oh why why why? It did hurt like the blood hell bcs hey, have you seen what we're talking abt? It's a tiny thing! Have you seen my pile? Thank God you haven't but it's like a raspberry, implanted there looking angry red and aggravated. Not only did my sphincter close up firmly at the mere thought of it, I couldn't find it! I COULD NOT FIND IT! I kept trying to relax but how exactly does one tell one's arse to Just Relax and Open Up when one knows that the pile is there, violaceously waiting to be poked so it can unleash violent pain? Oh and poked it was, repeatedly, bcs I couldn't fel anything, the whole area BUT THE PILE became numb. And not only that but it felt and looked ridiculous, do you know how much contorting went into this? No one's arse should be this much trouble.

So after yelping and cursing for a bit I gave it up altogether and cursed my doctor friends for their absence, cursed my other close friends for their absence and then as the pile stretched and sang in all its glory I realised it would have probably been too painful anyway even with two extra pair of hands and an actual pair of eyes so what I did was to simply lay the frozen finger against it to shut its bloody mouth and do you know, it worked, no more victorious singing from my arse, and WHY DIDN'T I THINK OF IT BEFORE?

I have been swapping the fingers for a while now (I had two gloves ready) and I can already sit without pain, even though I won't. So this post is brought to you from a supine position, with a mound of frozen latex sticking our from my buttocks oh so elegantly. I have the best Sunday afternoons. Anyone who willingly inserts saint figurines and shaving cream containers and big squashes up their arseholes deserves a prize, may your anus serve you well and prosper.

7 furballs:

Eliyahu said...

thank g_d for the photographer guy good sense of timing! if it had been slightly different, who knows?

Schvach said...

Yo girl, you on birth control pills?
That's one cause of hemorrhoids.
Talk to your doc. Also,love that T-shirt.

Diana said...


I hadn't heard about the glove idea. So simple. Makes perfect sense, and, yes, if the bloody thing is on the outside, just keep the glove on the outside. Hydrocortisone will help, but maybe it's time to see the surgeon to have the fucker removed? As always, I'm laughing with you and not at you. Such misery in such a delicate place.

(Your mother had me in stitches. Did the aliens wipe her memory clean? I certainly hope so, since they certainly didn't do you the favor.)

Nancy said...

I am so ashamed of laughing, and yet, I can't stop....

(fellow sufferer btw..)

But the mental picture you just painted of you blogging in juuuusst that special way...

Orodemniades said...

I am so going to have to remember that. I don't think I've ever had piles, but now that I have company in the ol' ute it seems like a good thing to know!

Lord Chimmy said...

Yes, yes, you may laugh. I know I would. But you haven't even heard the worst.

I felt like you caught me laughing. I'm sorry.

Old Bald Helen said...

I read this post, rearranged my chair because my butt felt uncomfortable for some reason, and then scrolled down to read the previous post, the title of which I scanned as "There's a kind of tush"....

Try singing along with that lyric instead and see what happens.