I have been excised
demon out
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Yesterday was really rough, not gonna lie. Today too.
I have barely spoken about the reality of just how much pain I was in prior to surgery yesterday. Besides a few random (and likely now deleted) threads and/or vague comments within my videos, I have persistently downplayed my medical issues.
Truthfully, I didn’t want to give anybody ammunition, or satisfaction.
However, now that the thing has been removed, I feel like I can finally say…
OH MY FUUUUUUUCKING SHITHELL MOTHERFUCKING JESUS CHRIST ALMIGHTY BITCHASS MOTHER SHIT FUCK
That thing HURT.
All of this started sometime in November/December of last year. Initially, I’d noticed what felt like a grape-sized lump on my right backside, parallel to my hip bone. It must have already been infected when I noticed it, but I didn’t really start feeling the effects of that until a few weeks later, when I landed myself in the ER with a full blown abscess. The infected mass was deep, past the layers of my epidermis, sitting on my muscle. They tried to drain it, but due to its depth were only able to slightly knick the surface. This left me with an openly draining hole (ew) which I had to pack with gauze for the next week or so, and I took several courses of antibiotics.
After I healed, for a while things got better, but the pain never fully went away. It wasn’t local pain, either, seemingly it was always spreading either down my leg or up my back. It had been suggested that I get the cyst removed, so I was going through the medical prep for that, which included needing more thorough imaging than had been performed during my ER visit. Everything moves slower on Medicaid, so this was a seemingly endless process of getting bounced between one specialist to another.
When they sent me for a CT, they discovered I have Spinal Stenosis, and suddenly the focus completely shifted to that. It was determined that the source of all my pain must be my spine, and I was then recommended spinal surgery.
To me, spinal surgery is way more terrifying than getting a mass removed from my buttcheek, so I was going every alternate route. Steroids, physical therapy, epidural injections, etc. I tried all of this while the mass grew larger, and the pain intensified.
I started having intense flare-ups, ones I couldn’t correlate with any source, meticulously picking apart my activity to try to deduce if it was too much yoga, too much walking, or perhaps even not enough movement. There was no rhyme or reason to when these flare-ups would occur, but when they did I was nearly completely immobilized. I started experiencing drop foot, involuntary movements on my right side, even pain in my face.
Once the cyst grew large enough and I could once again feel it from the surface, I begged for the surgery to remove it. Medicaid finally authorized it, and I was scheduled a couple months ago for yesterday’s operation. That was a relief, but it also meant getting through the last two months with severe nerve pain, and intermittent mobility issues. This was difficult, to put it mildly.
Some days, I felt on top of the world, like the pain would never return. The next, the unknown would infuriate the mass, causing it to swell up and ravage every nerve ending it could. It felt like I was living at the mercy of a foreign object my own body had created, and I would lay in bed with a vivid desire to cut it out myself. One time, I got so desperate I tried to aspirate it with a syringe. Thankfully, the insulin needle I used didn’t go deep enough to reach it. In retrospect, puncturing it myself would have likely led to further infection. Severe pain can lead you to impulsivity and irrationality quite easily, in my experience.
I was also struggling mentally and emotionally with all of this. I blamed myself in any regard. A part of me believes I caused this by working too many hours driving around delivering food orders, another part of me believes I caused this by attempting to cast a spell last fall, intended to bring my ex back. I felt insane. I didn’t want to talk about how bad it was either, also for multiple reasons.
One, the crazy motherfuckers online would pick me apart. Some would call me a liar, some would relish in my pain, some would pray on my death and downfall.
Two, it may validate another’s understanding of having put a curse on me, and it working. I am positive there are those who have tried this.
Three, it would lead to unwanted and annoying medical advice.
Ultimately, I’m always the one with problems.
Yesterday, when I arrived to the hospital, I was fairly convinced I may die. Specifically, from the anesthesia. It just made sense to me, with my luck.
The operation was a success, although more intensive than originally thought to be. According to my surgeon’s notes (yes, I am that weirdo who reads the chart), he “eventually” found the cyst, which explains my massive incision.
I have an approximately four inch incision from my hipline to halfway down my right buttcheek. The scar will be incredible, and I’d show you guys, but I’m not so sure many of you would appreciate a direct-to-email open wound at 10am on a Monday. If you wanna see it, DM me.
I’m still in pretty significant pain, but now it’s a different pain. I can tell the nerve pain is gone, and now I’m just dealing with the surgical wound.
I should have boarded Courtney, but her regular facility was booked up weeks in advance, and the recent crisis of multiple doggie daycares losing their licensing in Chicago made me too nervous to figure that out last minute. So, I am being nursed by a very concerned Pitbull, who is also forcing me outside every 4 hours.
Once I heal from this, I’m fucking going to Australia... I think. Maybe Japan, actually. I promise I have good reason to visit either.