I made mention to some friends that I also had this weird swollen lymph node in my groin and it had been there for some time.
Like, 3 months.
I know, not cool.
Julie offered to take care of it herself
if I didn't seek medical attention immediately.
And she has a lot of tools.
But it got me an appointment.
When I went in, I felt silly.
My doctor is a friend and it ALWAYS seems like I'M THE ONE sitting on the paper-lined table telling her I'm having heart trouble only for her to tell me it's a Wii Fit injury and to lay off the side planks for a while.
Worked like a charm.
Or to ask if my neck mole is ok and she said yes DON'T MESS WITH IT and then I went and burned the holy heck out of it with Frankincense oil because I saw it on the internet.
The mole is still there, by the way.
I just really wanted to go in with a legitimate, honest to goodness flu, get my antibiotics, mention on the way out, "Hey, what about this swollen groin thing?" hear her say it's part of the flu and wish her Merry Christmas and be. gone.
She went right to the groin.
She poked on it once and said,
"You have a femoral hernia."
Basically, my intestines were squirting out from a weak area in my muscle wall and causing the lump.
It would not go away on its own.
In fact, it would continue to get worse.
I explained how I was NOT a body builder and she said it didn't matter and it probably had something to do with me dressing up in an inflatable dinosaur costume and jumping on a trampoline.
Of course she was kidding.
She referred me to a surgeon and said it had to be surgically removed because problems could arise when your intestines are squirting through a hole it isn't supposed to.
Then she printed out some information for me to review at home.
The nurse handed me the information as I was leaving and said to be sure to look over it.
It included pictures.
Sorry. But I have to share.
Look away if you don't like graphic things.
Basically, this was my possible future if I didn't get the surgery pronto.
IN HORROR, I told the nurse it looked like Barbie was turning into Ken.
(Sorry, that was graphic too!)
She almost fell out of her chair.
Now, here is the point you know you've been married a long time.
Monte and I had met our insurance deductible for the first time in our married life so this surgery was basically going to be completely covered.
And we were excited about that.
Newlyweds could not appreciate
a free hernia surgery.
I was able to get into a surgeon right away through the wonderful contacts of our friend, Mark.
He was lovely.
My friend Mark told him about my blog.
I prayed he didn't go into the archives
and read about the Frankincense incident.
We scheduled the surgery for Tuesday. I had to be on the east side of the city at 6:10 am.
It was in the same surgical complex Monte had his colonoscopy/endoscopy.
We were becoming regulars.
Monte sent this pre-surgery picture out and he showed me this one with notes from Julie to show the surgeon.
|Except that is the wrong side.|
Luckily, the surgeon came in and marked me with a blue marker which side to operate on.
I still can't get that marker off.
I really don't remember a whole lot after that except telling someone I couldn't feel my face.
|I don't think I could feel my face here either.|
We got home just before it started snowing big, beautiful flakes.
I was very content to lie on the couch, semi-sedated, watching it snow.
I mentioned it was like a scene from a Christmas Hallmark movie.
Monte decided it would be called,
"Ho Ho Hernia."
I'd still watch it.
I figured out that it hurt LIKE A STABBING KNIFE when I laughed.
I told Monte to stop being funny.
He said he could not NOT be funny.
I also learned that the pain of a cough made me lose control of my bladder just a teence.
The first time I showered, I noticed that half my abdomen looked like a Sneetch from Dr. Seuss.
Lots of swelling.
So the last few days have been filled with lots of couch time, pain pills, ice packs, elastic-waisted pants and avoiding funny people.
Which hasn't been easy.
They keep finding me.
And sending me pictures.
Today is our 21st wedding anniversary.
Who would've thought all those years ago that we'd be spending this anniversary eating Italian takeout while listening to Bruno Mars and then folding laundry in our bedroom while the girls clean the house because I'm recovering from Ho Ho Hernia, for the love of Pete.
I wouldn't have it any other way.