Ab-Ripper Ouch

Be warned, this is a medical post.  Feel free to go look at funny pictures of cats on the internet until tomorrow's post.  Note though, I will do my best to spare you the details, but as I am overcome with ouch, owwie and uncomfortableness I'm going to have to hammer it out in words here. 

Let's start at the beginning.  Rewind to Thanksgiving day with family, friends, a lovely dinner and a warm toasty fire burning.  Burning because I flipped the switch that turns it on, despite the fact that it was pleasant weather outside.  Thanksgiving day was just asking for a fire and I didn't want to let it down. 

At the culmination of the evening, my husband challenged my niece, Olivia, and me to fifteen minutes of Ab-Ripper X.  As you may remember from a prior post, we were successful in completing the workout but it was tough.

Fast forward to the next day and I have a problem.  I have hurt my behind.  I have hurt it right in the middle, just below where the coccyx bone is.  I have sat up, crunched and exercised myself into a nice patch of raw skin.  It is not comfortable.  I apply liberally and regularly, Neosporin ointment.  I keep the area clean.  I anxiously await the area to heal.

A week later and the area has healed, but, and this is strange, it appears that some acne has appeared in the same area.  Acne that got dramatically worse very quickly.  Oh no, could this be a boil?  I've heard of them and they sound awful.  I futilely hope it's just clogged pores from all the antibiotic ointment I've been applying.

So hoping didn't help.  It really didn't help because things got much much worse.  Two nights ago I could barely lie on my back due to pain.  Last night, no way.  Not a chance.  Sitting was achievable by having great posture and leaning slightly forward.  Something had to be done.  Something other than read all about it on the internet.

The internet had some good advice, some home treatments (such as hot compresses) but oral antibiotics or having a professional open up the area could be needed.  Check with your friendly doctor if things get bad, the web sites say.  And since the situation had been rapidly progressing in a downhill direction quickly, I went to Urgent Care at opening today.

The doctor saw me and said, "Yep, you need to go to the emergency room.  They will either lance it or have to surgically open it up depending on the severity."  Wait, what?  Are you sure?  It was fine two days ago, well, not as bad.  Seriously?  Yes, seriously, sigh.  And yet from a pain perspective I wanted to say, "Bring on the knife, get me some relief."  Back in the car to the hospital.

And this is where things take a surprising turn, in time.  I was checked in and in a bed in the emergency room in less than ten minutes.  Ten minutes?!  That just doesn't happen.  They did an initial assessment and sent me to the "procedure" area.  Elapsed time, twenty minutes.  The doctor said he would try and drain it, but the type it was was going to possibly have to have follow-up surgery by a general surgeon.  Ugh, but okay, can you fix me today?   He said he'd be right back.

In another thirty minutes I was bandaged up, holding paperwork and prescriptions for antibiotics and pain medication and walking out of the hospital.  Total elapsed time was about an hour-and-a-half.  In the EMERGENCY room!  How crazy cakes is that?  I am not complaining.  I am thrilled—well, aside from the large bandage, incision and packing in my backside. 

This morning started with me telling my husband I might go to the doctor to being and then wham, I'm at the emergency room for a possible procedure.  My husband called his mother and she very kindly drove up to help because emergency room visits usually mean hours and hours of wait time until anything happens.  Here's the amazing thing.  I was home before she got here.  Urgent care, Emergency room, minor surgical procedure, trip to the pharmacy for prescriptions and I was back in three hours. 

I can only hope my backside heals at an equally rapid pace.

The Big Boy Update:  "Three, four, five, eight, number two."  It appears he can count.  He counted off his numbers to us more than once today.  Eight follows five and "number two" comes next.

The Tiny Girl Chronicles:  Stairs up and stairs down.  She's been able to go up for a while, and she could go down steps when she wanted to.  She seemed interested in going up four steps and then down four steps.  Two days ago she went up a flight, stood up at the top, walked around and then got down on her hands and knees and backed up to the top step.  She then, carefully, went down the entire flight.  Since then, she's done it twice more. 

Fitness Update:  None for a while, for obvious reasons.

Someone Once Said:  We humans have to make considerable progress before we can accept a free gift, and value it. Accepting is much harder than giving.