Monday, July 6, 2009

Dirty Words

I'm back to my brown-nosing, over-achieving antics again. Went to the colo-rectal surgeon today to discover that I have not one ... not two ... but three fissures. A trifecta of pain, just what I was seeking. Already feeling woosy, tired, blood pressure very low, and knowing that I probably shouldn't be on my feet, I got to have my bum on display again. Or my "sore bottom" as the doctor called it. I'm all about education, but this was a very tight exam room and in it was jammed me, the doctor, her internist following her for the day, and a nurse, all peering at my bare bum hoisted in the air. Again, humility is long gone. 

These are the things that nobody talks about but apparently are pretty common for people going through chemotherapy. Anal fissures certainly weren't the first thing that popped into my head when I got my cancer diagnosis. In fact, I did not know what they were and would have been fine going my whole life without finding out, but it makes sense that they come with the territory. 

My body is all out of whack from the cancer and the chemo drugs. The drugs cause constipation and diarrhea at alternating intervals. With no idea what to expect from day to day, my cute little colon just doesn't know what to do. The worst part is that my body can't heal itself like it should as a result of the chemo, my reduced immune system, and infection fighting agents so it just keeps happening over and over. Like being pulled through a shredder that tender skin is now literally torn in a few places, by definition: "a small tear or cut in the skin that lines the anus" I now know from my handy-dandy pamphlet entitled "ANAL FISSURE" in big, bold, white letters. At least they put it in a paper bag. I left with all of these brochures, prescriptions, ointments and samples as if I was leaving a porn shop with an unmarked bag full of "dirty things" no one discusses. 

Could they at least come up with a better name for this? Women are supposed to fart butterflies and potpourri, not have to deal with anal tears, right? Well apparently not this girl. So as the doctor recommended, I will apply the creams "like I would lip gloss" and grin and bear this new development. 


  1. Girls still poop rainbows...rainbows just cause anal tears. It's perfectly logical.

  2. Ouch! Sorry, hun!