GlossyVeneer

Last Friday, after a full week of being in pain, I gave in and called the doctor. It took two hours of debating myself over if I should or shouldn’t call the doctor. (The best part of debating myself is that I always win…) But I finally picked up the phone and called my primary care physician’s office. And the receptionist told me the doctor could see me in two weeks. TWO WHOLE WEEKS! My butt can’t handle that kind of pain, so I asked if there was anyone else that could see me. She found another doctor in the office who could see me on Monday, so I made the appointment.

All weekend long I worried. I complained to my husband, my mother, my father, my brother. I even complained to the pile of pillows that is on my couch that I use to prop myself into a semi-upright position so I can watch tv. I was complaining because I didn’t want to show my bruised butt to the doctor. Yes, I wanted to post a picture of my bruised butt on the internet, but for some reason the thought of showing my butt to a doctor freaked me out.

My mother didn’t offer any sympathy on this one, seeing as how she has been going through breast cancer. She said that she’s actually worried that a day might come and she won’t actually have to expose herself to a doctor and she’ll do it anyway. (“Yes Doc, I have a sore throat. Here’s my breast…”)

So I worried and complained and imagined all sorts of horrible scenarios all weekend. Then I had to drag myself into my car and drive myself to the doctor. After a week of being chauffeured I had to actually drive myself somewhere and that act alone made me want to cry. But I did it. I got into the Neon and after shouting a few obscenities, I put the car into gear and drove to the doctor’s office.

Then they made me wait. And wait. And wait. I had to wait a full hour for the doctor. And I couldn’t sit in the damn waiting room chairs. I tried. It was impossible. I had to stand in the waiting room. For an hour. Then they called me back to an examination room. I stood for a couple more minutes and then the doctor arrived.

The moment I had dreaded was finally here. And the doctor didn’t even look at my butt! I felt like I had been ripped off or something. He just patted my backside down through my clothes and sent me away to get x-rays. He didn’t even see the bruise! I felt like screaming, “Please…. don’t you want to see my butt?” But he didn’t look.

So I was sent to get x-rays. The x-ray technician gave me a piece of gray material, led me to a changing stall and told me to take off all my clothes and put the material on. So after I figured out how the gown/fabric square worked, I opened the curtain on the stall and wandered down a hallway in my drafty gray gown. I followed the x-ray tech into the room where she told me to lie down on the metal table, flat on my back.

Flat on my back? No… you don’t understand. My back and butt are the problem areas. I can’t sit on them. I can’t lay on them. Are you sure you meant my back?

Yes, the back. So I climb onto the table and try to maneuver myself into position. And even though I didn’t want them to, the tears came. It was an uncontrollable instinct. This wasn’t an all out sob, but simply my eyes filling with tears when forced to deal with horrible pain.

So I had to lay on my back. BUZZZ….. The x-ray was taken. Then I had to roll on my left side slightly so they could shove a foam wedge firmly against the bruise and cause a new wave of pain. BUZZZ…. Another x-ray taken. Then I had to roll onto my right side so the foam wedge could be pushed into the bruise from a different angle. BUZZZ… Yet another x-ray. Lastly I had to lay completely on my left side. Oh… sweet relief. No more pressure on the bruise or the injured bone. BUZZZ… Last x-ray done.

So the verdict of all this? They’re still evaluating everything but in all likelihood I broke my tailbone. I broke my butt. And there isn’t a real fix for it. Just be careful, take pain pills and sit on a donut. Yes, the doctor wants me to carry an inflatable donut into my office and sit on it. No! I will not do that. I will stand at my desk but I am not carrying the donut across campus. I will pass too many of my co-workers. My pride has been injured enough.

Thus completes the chronicles of the 4 hours at the doctor’s office.

Butt Incident 2004: 1 – 3 – 4

Last week my best friend was in town visiting. She said that she needed a girls only night, which included a chick flick. So on Friday night we went to the movies and saw “Wimbledon“. It was a mediocre movie made worse by Kirsten Dunst’s poor acting. Okay, that’s a little harsh… but it wasn’t that great. It had a few funny Brit humor moments, but I had a really hard time believing that these two had any chemistry and that they were in a MAJOR TENNIS COMPETITION.

After the movie ended, we stood up to leave. I stepped out into the aisle and stepped down the first step out of about 8 we had to go down to get to the exits. The next step, I twisted my ankle and suddenly it seemed that the whole world went into slow motion. I honestly had a whole inner dialogue with myself:

“Your foot is slipping.”
“I know.”
“Correct it. Catch yourself.”
“I can’t.”
“You’re going to fall.”
“I know. There’s nothing I can do.”
“This isn’t going to be good.”
“I know, but again, there’s nothing I can do….”

THUD!!!

Yes, I fell. I fell and hit my butt, then my back… then my butt and my back and my butt and my back. Over and over I kept hitting these two places as I slid down about six stairs.

Even though it seemed that the whole incident took place over several minutes, it was actually just a couple seconds. Once my fall came to a halt, the entire theatre gasped and stared at me. Some of the people around me asked “Are you okay?” And of course, the only response that I could come up with was, “Shit…”

My best friend was walking down the stairs in front of me. It’s a wonder I didn’t take her out during my progression down the stairs. She turned around and helped me pick up my drink cup that I dropped during all of this. She gave me a couple seconds until I felt like I could stand up. Then we walked out of the theatre – where I paused in the hall and proceeded to lean against a wall for a couple minutes. I then managed to limp my way out to the parking lot, get into her truck so she could drive me home, limp up my front steps and collapse on the couch in my living room.

My friend got some painkillers for me and told me she had to go get her kid from a babysitter, but she would call me the next day to see how I was doing. She left, and then I was home alone. (My husband was at work.) And that’s when the tears came. I think I lay on the couch crying for about 15 minutes. Then I finally got off the couch and made my way to the bathroom to check out the damage. Just 20-25 minutes after the fall, I was already bruising. I had several bruises on my back and my legs, but the worse one was on my right butt check. At that time, it was already some strange shades of purple.

Most people, when they hear this story, they immediately say “How embarrassing! You fell in front of all those people!” But I didn’t realize I fell in front of a large audience until the next day. And even at that point I wasn’t embarrassed. I couldn’t control this and I was in too much pain to care.

I spent the weekend either laying on my left side or on my stomach and limping to go check out the damage. My entire right butt cheek is a horrifying shade of black. I am not an exhibitionist by any means, but I have never wanted to take a picture of my bare ass more than I do at this time. Not only do I want a picture, I want to post it on the web, because this bruise is horrible. I will refrain from actually doing this, but I just don’t think you can imagine the extent of this bruise. My husband finally told me, “I don’t want to see that bruise anymore. It’s the worst bruise I’ve ever seen and it’s disgusting. For the first time since we’ve met, I DO NOT want to see your butt.” So that should give you an idea how bad it is.

So I’ve spent the last couple days only working half days because I can’t bear to sit in my desk chair for very long. Today I am working a full eight hours and I am in so much pain at this moment I am almost sick to my stomach. I can’t drive right now because it’s too hard to get into a car. My husband has to drive me everywhere and even now I just kind of fall into the passenger seat on my left side.

My parents think I should go to a doctor. At first I thought that was silly. What would a doctor do? Look and say, “Yep, you’re banged up really good.” But now I’m wondering if maybe I should go to make sure I don’t have any damage to my spine or something. But it’s a tough decision and I hate going to the doctor’s office. So if I die of pain, you’ll know it because I won’t post ever again after this one. In lieu of flowers, please make donations to my husband because he’ll need lots of help covering funeral expenses. Thank you.

Weather Check: 59°
Song playing now: God by Tori Amos

Butt Incident 2004: 2 – 3 – 4