mkayal

So three weeks ago, I got the flu.

For months, I've had a bump on my tailbone. It comes and goes, no real problem. I've fixed it before with hot(!) compresses.

I get the flu, the bump gets HUGE. I have a wedding to attend so I'm not going to get it seriously taken care of. I keep it clean, damn near poor boiling water on it, and it stays huge. For a whole week after the wedding, the bump is getting painful. I can't lie down or sit down without feeling like a golf ball got jammed into my spine. It's infected.

At first I was treating the symptoms, then I thought ANTI BIOTICS ON THE BALL OF PAIN! I could lie down, almost. "Hi, I'd like to make an appointment. Tomorrow? Fine."

Doctor: "HOLY SHI-- That's the biggest one ever in thirty years... Oh by the way it's a polinidal cyst. We're going to have to lance it."

Lancing. verb. Medical procedure where we stick you with local anasthetic, like the point of a lance, and then cut the infected ball of puss, yes puss, open and drain it, which feels like the rest of the staff going through, and then we leave it open so more puss doesn't form inside.

I think the only way to describe it is the worst smell ever that for the rest of the day, any bad smell will smell like that. Like, fat, not good salty fat, just boiled processed fat. Or plastic. Plastic fat.

I was bleeding through all my bandages and my clothes for the rest of the day. Had to take off work because of that.

All the women in my family: "It's just like a period."

Me: "yeah, every one you've ever had, will have, and then some, plus the added puss smell."

As I write this, I'm on the edge of my seat sitting on my thighs so I don't put pressure on my ass so I don't open up the scab.

I got three more days of easy being until I think it's really scabbed over. I have a paper cut on my thumb from last Thursday so I have no real hope.

And it's lent, on a Friday, and I'm pissed I ate meat without thinking about it. Till five seconds later.