Injury Update, part 2 of 3

You'd think that a person who has a diet rich in wholesome steel-cut oats wouldn't be afflicted by an inflamed hemorrhoid. A fibrous diet certainly minimizes the chances, but doesn't eliminate it entirely.

My ordeal started two years ago. I had completed a long run on a sweltering summer day. Apparently, I hadn't taken in enough fluids and was dehydrated. The dehydration led to constipation. Then, straining produced a bloody stool -- I know, yucky -- and worse: an external bump. I was quite frightened; the blood and bump really freaked me out. My thoughts jumped to it being a cancerous tumor.

The Mayo-clinic's website brought some clarity on it. In short, everyone has hemorrhoids. And lots of them. It's basically soft tissue to help you know when it's time to move bowels. Unfortunately, more than half of us will experience an episode of inflammation in their lifetime. Once inflamed, a portion of it can become external, causing the bump. It's at that point when it can become a thromboid (clot) and swell to a considerable size. With nowhere to go, the clots aren't life-threatening. Still, if untreated, they can cause other troubles from infections.

On Monday morning, I made the call to the doctor. As this was a private matter, I slipped out of my cubicle and found a quiet nook in the lobby adjacent to the bustling Starbucks in my office building.

Nurse Ratchet took my call.

Nurse Ratchet: "The next available appointment is mid January."

That wasn't acceptable. I pressed to be seen immediately. Ratchet countered by asking when the symptoms started. My mind accessed the repressed memory of sweating it out on the toilet two years ago. Somehow, I knew that a couple years didn't warrant an emergency today.

WSCG: "Five days ago," I suddenly blurted out.

Nurse Ratchet: "Well there's nothing that the doctor can do now since the swelling of a thromboid subsides after three days. You'll have to make an appointment earlier next time."

WSCG: "But the intense swelling started Saturday morning. That's only two days ago."

Nurse Ratchet: "Well, I'll go ask the doctor, but I'm going to tell him that you originally said five days and then changed it to two."

Did I really just hear that?!? I replayed it in my mind. Yes, she said that she was going to tell the doctor that I changed my story. A flash of anger sent adrenalin coursing through my veins.

WSCG: "DON'T TELL ME THAT THAT THING THE SIZE OF A KIDNEY BEAN PROTRUDING FROM MY ANUS CAN'T BE TREATED RIGHT NOW. YOU GO TELL THE DOCTOR THAT"

Silence. Then after a pregnant pause...

Nurse Ratchet: "Please hold --"

The lobby outside Starbucks had grown eerily quiet. Where did everybody go? Actually, I didn't care anymore. The rush of beta endorphins from that outburst was better at suppressing pain than any narcotic, over or behind the counter.

Nurse Ratchet: "The doctor can squeeze you at 11:00 o'clock. Be prepared to wait."

Next Part 3 of 3: The Treatment