Dealing with hemorrhoids
in Health ·
Hemorrhoids... heh, in short: a lifelong battle!
I had surgery for external ones when I was about 22. During my follow-up, the nurse asked if I’d given birth, and I just sat there during the exam with wide, panicked eyes saying, "Please, did I give birth? Oh wait, no, not yet..." and she just casually added, "Well, you still have plenty of suffering ahead of you..."
But let's get to the point. To put it mildly, my general practitioner at the campus clinic really messed me over. It all started innocently enough with a little stinging sensation, but it wouldn't leave me alone, so my doctor told me if it just stings a bit, I should just apply some cream. So, I applied it, and applied it... but the lump just kept getting bigger day by day!! A month later, I'm back seeing her, and I say quite bluntly, "This is getting serious," and in that same deadpan tone, I add, "I'll take my pants off so you can take a good look." She looked, and just said, "Keep applying the cream." Not long after that, I finally snapped and asked for a referral to the hospital in Chicago. I shuffled in there, and in front of a huge crowd of students, I took an interesting position for the exam, to which the doctor remarked, "Where on earth have you been until now?" before casually adding, "Shall we go straight to surgery?" Imagine me—it was practically my first time ever hearing what hemorrhoids actually were or how they happen, and this guy is already suggesting we cut them out right away!!?? 😲
He told me that for about a week, I needed to stick to a strict diet, use all sorts of creams, do chamomile soaks, maintain extremely meticulous hygiene... etc. I was so incredibly angry that my GP hadn't properly educated me on this, but unfortunately, nothing helped.
Seven days later, walking to the hospital in Chicago with my roommate on my arm, I made it to the table. The doctor was wonderful; we joked around so much that I was actually tapping away at something while he performed the anesthesia, clipping, and ligation. After half an hour, it was "bye-bye!" We called a taxi, and in a sort of semi-reclined position, I shuffled back to the room, picking up a bunch of medications along the way and praying that the first trip to the bathroom would go smoothly! 😁 The surgery itself isn't the issue; it's the pain afterward, but you forget everything once things return to normal and, after months of agony on the toilet, I swear you'll be able to handle everything with a smile!!
Someone said it perfectly: the moment you notice that first sting, you need to immediately think about how to prevent and treat it! Even today, I stay vigilant; as soon as I feel any strain, it's straight to the fiber-rich foods... You learn to live with it.
How a person gets them varies: let's say it's a bit genetic, combined with a poor diet, sitting too much, and stress, stress, stress...
Today, I'm talking about this as if I'm describing how to make lunch. No matter how uncomfortable it might be for someone to talk about, it's even more uncomfortable when you're collapsing on the toilet from the pain or blood loss. Everything else is a joke!!
I had surgery for external ones when I was about 22. During my follow-up, the nurse asked if I’d given birth, and I just sat there during the exam with wide, panicked eyes saying, "Please, did I give birth? Oh wait, no, not yet..." and she just casually added, "Well, you still have plenty of suffering ahead of you..."
But let's get to the point. To put it mildly, my general practitioner at the campus clinic really messed me over. It all started innocently enough with a little stinging sensation, but it wouldn't leave me alone, so my doctor told me if it just stings a bit, I should just apply some cream. So, I applied it, and applied it... but the lump just kept getting bigger day by day!! A month later, I'm back seeing her, and I say quite bluntly, "This is getting serious," and in that same deadpan tone, I add, "I'll take my pants off so you can take a good look." She looked, and just said, "Keep applying the cream." Not long after that, I finally snapped and asked for a referral to the hospital in Chicago. I shuffled in there, and in front of a huge crowd of students, I took an interesting position for the exam, to which the doctor remarked, "Where on earth have you been until now?" before casually adding, "Shall we go straight to surgery?" Imagine me—it was practically my first time ever hearing what hemorrhoids actually were or how they happen, and this guy is already suggesting we cut them out right away!!?? 😲
He told me that for about a week, I needed to stick to a strict diet, use all sorts of creams, do chamomile soaks, maintain extremely meticulous hygiene... etc. I was so incredibly angry that my GP hadn't properly educated me on this, but unfortunately, nothing helped.
Seven days later, walking to the hospital in Chicago with my roommate on my arm, I made it to the table. The doctor was wonderful; we joked around so much that I was actually tapping away at something while he performed the anesthesia, clipping, and ligation. After half an hour, it was "bye-bye!" We called a taxi, and in a sort of semi-reclined position, I shuffled back to the room, picking up a bunch of medications along the way and praying that the first trip to the bathroom would go smoothly! 😁 The surgery itself isn't the issue; it's the pain afterward, but you forget everything once things return to normal and, after months of agony on the toilet, I swear you'll be able to handle everything with a smile!!
Someone said it perfectly: the moment you notice that first sting, you need to immediately think about how to prevent and treat it! Even today, I stay vigilant; as soon as I feel any strain, it's straight to the fiber-rich foods... You learn to live with it.
How a person gets them varies: let's say it's a bit genetic, combined with a poor diet, sitting too much, and stress, stress, stress...
Today, I'm talking about this as if I'm describing how to make lunch. No matter how uncomfortable it might be for someone to talk about, it's even more uncomfortable when you're collapsing on the toilet from the pain or blood loss. Everything else is a joke!!