Posts by Benjamin Gray33

Lisa Castillo is pulling a fast one on the doctor, making a quick getaway

Jonathan Kim6
Daflon tablets $33—you can get them over the counter. I take one in the morning and one before bed; they help close up those swollen veins. If things are bleeding more than usual, I step it up to two in the morning, two in the afternoon, and two at night. That’s my current routine.
Faktu suppositories—these creamy ones you use at night or after a bowel movement. You keep them right where the inflammation is, and they actually work. They help me out, no prescription needed, $10, that's what I'm using.
- I feel better with this combo, plus I'm taking iron, and that's basically it. Just make sure you read the instructions in the manual.

hang in there
Your story really hit home. It was incredibly honest. Since I'm pretty happy with how my recovery is going right now, I'm not going to start loading up on extra stuff just so my body doesn't get used to it, but if things start heading south, I'm coming back to your post. My dad passed away when I was nine, and it's only now that I truly understand what my mom went through—all the sacrifices she made and the limitations she lived with. Even with all that, she still managed to be the best mom ever. I hope you and your son find all the happiness and love that God owes you.

Best,

Got my bloodwork back yesterday, and the results show my hemoglobin is just a hair below average. My doctor handed me two packs of iron supplements to build up my reserves and told me to grab some Detralex and Factu chewables to go along with it. I’ve got a follow-up with the surgeon on the 13th, but overall, she says this is just how things have to play out for me. Since the surgery, my bowel movements have been irregular, which irritates my gut, and those leftover hemorrhoids just get inflamed from all that extra activity. Trying to find a little bit of optimism in all this grayness. Looking forward to feeling a bit better.

I don't quite get how that mucus works. My guess is it’s the first line of defense that regenerates. Once that layer is gone, the tissue and capillaries are just sitting there, wide open to being scraped by... well, you know. That’s just my theory, but I’m pretty sure about it. Now, things should ideally settle down so the mucus can come back and protect the raw spot. Might be best to move my bathroom trips to earlier in the evening, so everything can recover during sleep, and maybe stick to water instead of food when things start bleeding. Who knows.
Anyway, my movements today were totally normal. I’m almost ready to get back to training or hitting the trails to pick asparagus before the snakes get to them.

Watch out, because this stuff comes back easy. You should stick to soft foods for a few weeks to let everything heal up. Wounds in the gut take forever to close because of all the bacteria and that damp environment in there. I’m glad you’re feeling better, but seriously—don't spend ages sitting on the toilet, don't strain, and stay away from anything that hits your system hard. Avoid the crunchy stuff like peanuts and definitely skip the heavy hitters like red wine or hard liquor. It sucks, I know, but there's no other way.
Two months after my surgery, I bled out completely today. The paper was soaked through with mucus. It felt like something just snapped, and I have no clue why. I already grabbed another pack of Detralex, and now I have to see my doctor to get some iron supplements so I don't end up anemic.
I've been dealing with this whole mess for a year and a half now and it's driving me insane. Being sick is absolutely miserable.
Hang in there, people.

Jonathan Kim6
- those are just internal hemorrhoids (nothing more than swelling with surface capillaries), go see your doctor. They'll probably give you some cream for the itching and pain, maybe a little ointment, and for the bleeding, I'm currently taking Detralex—all following Dr. Smud's advice.

Donna Taylor68
The soft stool issue isn't an intestinal problem; it’s about what you're putting in your body or how your body processes it. And that acidic breath? It can actually be normal. Maybe you're eating small amounts, so everything digests too easily, making things soft. The golden rule for patients is that your body knows when it's sick. If you feel like your body is trying to tell you something, listen to it. Go talk to a doctor.
Good luck and cheers

"I guess it’s like some little blood sac just bursts from all that pressure."

Basically, you've got hard stools scraping against those inflamed areas, which ends up rupturing the surface capillaries and causing the bleeding. Maybe try taking Detralex, but definitely run it by your primary care doctor first.

It’s just me, honestly. Every time I sit down to eat, I can already feel the burn because I just had a bowel movement. I'm eating my food and all I can think is that this is all just going to turn into more trouble in the bathroom. Halfway through a meal, I'm already having to bolt for the toilet. To be real, I think I'm even more fed up with this whole situation than you are.

Thanks. Honestly, I had no clue. I was taking some Plavix for the pain for a bit, but that settled down. Now it’s just this stinging sensation when I sit, and that’s it. Someone’s actually trying to tell me that an anti-inflammatory is a good idea, but if it makes the veins swell, I'm definitely out.

The hospital gave me Voltaren because after that first painkiller, my blood pressure tanked to 80/55. They figured it was a reaction, switched me over to Voltaren, and man, thank God for that. I remember clearly asking for it the second I felt that tiny sting, since it takes a full hour to kick in, and I was constantly tossing and turning from the agony. I ended up getting about 12 Voltaren injections in five days. A lot, sure, but I think I would’ve lost my mind without it.

Anyway, I’m on Detralex now because of the heavy bleeding. After two days of chugging it, those literal streams of blood turned into just two little drops by my seventh bowel movement. Great. Maybe I didn't even need surgery. Maybe I could've handled the initial bleeding with just the Detralex. What an idiot. 😂

PHASE V

I’ve been popping chewable tablets for a month now. My hemoglobin levels are still low, so I’ve got another month of this. Since Christmas is right around the corner, I’m holding off on seeing the doctor until after the holidays pass. I'm sticking to the diet and taking everything prescribed. Once my vacation wraps up, I’ll head back in—my iron levels are actually great now, but she wants me to keep going so my body can build up some reserves. It’s good timing since these results came after a month of being off the iron; it shows my body recovered on its own rather than just being a temporary fix from the pills. She told me ointments and creams won't do squat because they only handle inflammation, and I don't have inflammation—I just bleed. I have to make sure my stool stays soft so it doesn't scrape the walls and pop those capillaries. All in all, I’m ready to schedule the surgeon. She gave me his number and said once the appointment is set, I should come back for the referral. In the meantime, I'm staying busy—hitting the soccer field, crushing it at the gym, and even starting dance classes with my girlfriend. Basically, I'm super active and in peak shape. I met a guy who had his hemorrhoids handled by a private specialist: cost him less than 10 $0.00, show up in the afternoon, sit down, everything smells like burnt skin, sleep it off, and you're heading home the next day. That sounded like a tempting option, but it was way too expensive, so I decided to stick to the standard healthcare channels hoping for a better deal. Finally, I get my appointment and see the surgeon. He does a manual exam and an anoscopy (basically a magnifying tool inside the anus about 5 or 6 cm deep) and confirms it's hemorrhoids. Then he asks if I want them operated on. I say yes—I figured it was a standard, almost outpatient procedure, like something slightly more intense than clipping your nails. The doctor looks at me like I'm crazy. "What?" he asks. "Yes!" I reply. He calls a colleague to see if they can do it tomorrow. I tell him not quite tomorrow. He says fine, Monday it is (it was Thursday). He tells me to contact the anesthesiologist, get a coagulation test done, and check back Sunday afternoon for one last look from the anesthesiologist. I say okay. After that, total radio silence. Nobody tells me anything else. Turns out, I need a referral from my primary doctor for both the anesthesiologist and the hospital, which a nurse casually mentioned at the end. I felt like a total idiot. My doctor is also sending me for an EKG and mentioning some kidney checks because of the surgery. They ran me around like a dog with all their administration and bureaucracy, but that's a whole other story (thanks to the healthcare revolution led by Hebrang—the guy acted like he fell off Mars when he tried to fix our mess. I don't want to judge anyone, but the man could have learned from the mistakes of larger nations instead of repeating these ridiculous, arbitrary procedures. Just pathetic.)

PHASE VI

So, I show up at the hospital. Nothing new here; I was there three months ago and they poked and prodded me then, too. There aren't many surprises left in the tank. The nurse sticks the IV needle in my vein, and I hit the bed like a log. I just collapsed (SHOCK 1). Alright, moving on. They give me a enema to clear things out, I fast, they shave me, give me a sedative, and I head into the OR. Inside, it's dead silent. Two anesthesiologists administer regional anesthesia in my back. They position me like a pregnant woman in a movie. A team of three doctors plus a few nurses works in near-total silence for almost an hour, pulling and stretching and whatnot. I ended up counting about 1,700 little holes in the perforated tin ceiling. The silence was briefly broken when the surgeon snapped, "Give it to me, don't do that, we're going to complicate things for no reason." I have no clue what he meant, but I assume the procedure wasn't exactly "standard" or easy. I wake up in my room feeling totally groggy from the anesthesia. I can't feel my legs. As the anesthesia starts wearing off, I start feeling my hips. They give me a pain injection in my shoulder, and suddenly, I'm wet. A million needles seem to be coming out of me. Three nurses are jumping around, and two doctors on duty are staring at each other like two confused bulls—they have no idea what's happening. My blood pressure is 80/55. The nurses are rolling their eyes, and finally, one doctor guts up enough courage to crank two IV bags to max flow to bring me back to reality (SHOCK 2). I desperately need to pee; my bladder hurts, but because of the anesthesia, I can't engage my abs to use the urinal. I toss and turn all night trying to go. I woke up twice with the urinal positioned, but nothing. It wasn't until later that I finally managed to pee, but I strained so hard that some brown, smelly liquid leaked out. What did I do? They put a dissolving medicated tampon inside, so maybe that's normal—maybe. I didn't walk for another 12 hours. The guys in my room who had the same surgery were telling stories: "They come in today, surgery tomorrow with one anesthesiologist and one doctor, they listen to music and joke around in the OR, and by the afternoon, the regional wears off and you're home." Now, compare that to my experience. The morning after surgery is standard. I drink water. At noon, the physical therapist gets me up to walk. I look at her, totally confused, but she insists, so I get up and manage it. Great—now I can try using the actual toilet.

PHASE VII

Around 1:00 PM, lunch time. I’m having some soup. Finally, something to eat. Halfway through the soup, things go south—literally. Something just gives out down there. I figure it’s just more bleeding. I look down, and there's blood running down to my knee. I get up and head to the nurse at the station to have her take a look. She cleans me up, bandages me, and tells me it’s fine. Since I'm already up, I head to the restroom to pee—about 50 yards down the hall. Suddenly, the urge hits. It’s that "first bowel movement" the surgeon said we had to wait for before they'd let me go home (he thought I’d be in the hospital for five days total). I lean over the toilet, and boom—half a liter of blood flies out, along with clumps of clots. My mind goes straight to: *Great, my intestines burst and everything is spilling out.* (SHOCK LEVEL 3). I scramble to pull my pajamas between my legs to stop the leak, head for the door, and call for a nurse. Perfect timing, too—visiting hours. The hallway is packed with strangers. A nurse shows up, wraps me in a sheet, and leads me back to bed. Then the surgeon arrives and sticks a tube in me to stop the bleeding. They clean me up and change the sheets. Twenty minutes later, they're pushing me again. Within two minutes, I’m back in bed, practically swimming in clotted blood. From shoulder to knee, just covered. The surgeon shakes his head and rushes me back to the OR. This time I get full anesthesia. Total blackout. But before that, I had to deal with the tube; since I'd actually eaten the soup, they had to shove a thin tube through my nose all the way down to my stomach—seriously, guys, right into the stomach. I wake up to the sound of bed frames rattling; they're bringing me back. They cleaned me up and managed to close it off. Apparently, the blood kept leaking and filled up my entire intestinal tract until it reached the stomach. Then they squeezed it all out. 1.5 meters of bloody tubing. As I’m recovering from surgery, the pain starts hitting me hard. They clean me, then push me again. More blood. I’m shaking from the pain. I have to wait for the surgeon to see what just came out, but he's stuck in the OR. I’m facing the wall, shivering like a leaf, phone ringing—I don't even know who I'm talking to. Supposedly my girlfriend was right there next to me, but I don't remember. After a while, the surgeon shows up and says it was just stuff stuck in the system. They clean me, check my blood pressure and clotting, and give me Voltaren for the pain. I ended up staying in the hospital for another six days under observation just to wait for that first stool. The pain feels like someone dropped a hot coal in my ass; it only finally subsided a month after the surgery. Between being immobile, wearing diapers, using creams, taking Voltaren, antibiotics, and endless injections, I turned into an old man overnight.

PHASE VIII

I’ve been home for a month now. The worst part is the "false start." Once the urge hits, I have to run to the bathroom, but then I end up going 5 or 6 more times within two hours, and the last two are nothing but blood. The area where they operated on the hemorrhoids is basically a knot of nerves. That’s why the surgeon had to leave those smaller ones alone—to let the tissue and nerves regenerate over the next six months. Not that
it wasn't enough that I bled out and suffered; now I can't do anything without bleeding again. Apparently, those smaller hemorrhoids flared up. Now, I still go 5 or 6 times, but I don't get the cramps, so things move naturally when they need to. I don't strain, so there’s no blood. The surgery was the classic "knife" method. Looking back, I wonder why I didn't just spring for the laser treatment to avoid this much misery. But my doctor explained that with the laser, they only burn the top layer, leaving the bottom to regenerate, so there's a 95% chance they come back. With the traditional surgery, there's a 75% chance they stay gone. Honestly, if they come back, who cares? I'm still dealing with them anyway. No red wine, no alcohol, no prosciutto, no shrimp—nothing. Maybe I'll allow myself a little something on special occasions, but life has definitely changed. It seems my childhood motto follows me everywhere: "I survived chickenpox." A week at home itching, crying, and suffering. When I finally felt better, my mom took me to a bakery. And there, I started itching like crazy. Chickenpox again? Nope. First it was measles, now it's chickenpox. Some things you just can't predict or avoid. You just have to accept them and keep moving.

Hey everyone on the forum. If anyone has questions, fire away.

Hey everyone. I see this thread is getting pretty intense and long. I’ve combed through all the pages and haven't found a direct answer yet, but maybe my own experience can offer some perspective. Since there's a lot to get into, I'll break this story up into a few parts.

PHASE I

I’m 30 years old, and my job basically chains me to an office chair or a car seat. No matter how you slice it, I’m sitting. I’ve already quit smoking, cut out soda, ditched coffee, and now I’m officially done with spicy and greasy food too. I play soccer; I stay active. Everything. The whole thing started about a year and a half ago when I noticed blood in the toilet for the first time—just a few drops. Everyone jumped in with their "expert" advice: they said it was just hemorrhoids, that everyone gets them, that I should watch my diet, cut back on alcohol, maybe rub some olive oil on it... yeah, right. Whatever. I don't have external hemorrhoids—you know, those painful, swollen lumps on the outside—it's just occasional bleeding. No itching, no inflammation, no pain during bowel movements. Nothing. Just a few random drops of blood after using the bathroom. It’s been inconsistent: sometimes once a week, then three times a week, then nothing for two weeks. It's always small amounts, nothing that actually messes with my day-to-day routine.

PHASE II

So, after about a year of dealing with occasional bleeding while living a totally normal life—clean diet, regular booze, nothing crazy—I caught some nasty virus toward the end of summer (around August or September). It hit me hard. Weakness, plus diarrhea hitting me four times a day, and my stool was just... dark, dark, *dark* blood. Purely soaked in it. In three days, I lost over a liter of blood without even trying. Sitting down on a toilet felt like someone had just opened a faucet. Blood was just spraying out of me. After two or three days of that constant flood, things finally settled down. The bleeding stopped, but then the paleness and weakness kicked in. After a week, just walking up to the second floor would leave me completely winded. Dizziness, exhaustion—plus, everyone kept making fun of me because I looked as pale as a ghost. My lips were basically the same color as my skin. I looked like a walking nightmare, even though I didn't actually *feel* that weak. I was still hitting the gym, going out, and drinking. After another week of getting winded just walking into my apartment, I told myself: if this isn't better by Monday, I'm seeing a doctor. And spoiler alert—it wasn't getting any better!

Phase III.

Showed up at the doctor's office at 11:00 AM. The doc doesn't even start until 2:00 PM, though they tell you to be there by 1:00. So, I hit a nearby coffee shop, grab a cup, come back, check in, and then finally get called at 5:00 PM. (Big thanks to Hebrang for this healthcare revolution, I guess). I laid out everything I told you guys before. She looks at me, pauses, and tells me she’s sending me straight to the hospital in Pula—which is an hour's drive away—for full blood work, because waiting around here would take days. I told her, "Fine, I'm going right now." She adds that she'll mark the referral as urgent so they take me immediately, and if my blood counts are bad, they might actually admit me. Honestly, she looked pretty spooked when she saw me, but she handled it like a pro. Respect. Fast forward: I roll into the ER in Pula around 11:00 PM. Wait around until midnight. Then, they finally call my name. I walk in to see the on-call doctor, who does a manual exam and tells me it’s nothing like hemorrhoids. That’s when the panic really sets in. Got my blood drawn and waited for the results. Turns out, the blood work was bad. They had to keep me. By 1:00 AM, I’m stuck on a hard auxiliary cot in a room with six other patients, basically parked in the hallway, already hooked up to two units of blood. Two 0.6-liter bags, so I ended up getting 1.2 liters of blood that night. Huge thanks to the donors.

PHASE IV

Spent a week stuck in the hospital. They ran me through the wringer: gastroscopy, colonoscopy, abdominal ultrasound, chest X-ray, daily blood work, vitals, two enemas, and enough injections to sink a ship. That waiting period for results? Pure torture. Everything finally boiled down to the colonoscopy. Honestly, an unforgettable experience, and by "unforgettable," I mean absolutely brutal. It’s this procedure where they use a camera to inspect your entire large intestine. The real nightmare happens at the bends. The camera bangs against the walls, and the pain is maddening while the nurse tries to manually adjust the device. The doctor was treating it like she was playing some high-level fanatic video game, twisting the joystick around. She even joked that her son gets mad because she won't play games with him, since she spends all day playing them at work. Another massive issue: the camera is basically the same size as your gut. They pump air in, and you get this sensation like everything inside you is about to burst and spray both you and the nurse everywhere. I went into shock—cold sweats, dizziness, the whole bit. They rushed to open the windows, cranked the AC, brought out wet cloths... just trying to stabilize me. Eventually, we hit the entrance to the small intestine and things leveled out. No tumors, nothing malignant or benign. Just internal hemorrhoids right at the exit. I thought, "Great, best-case scenario, exactly what I hoped for." Then I looked at the monitor. There were dark bulges in the intestine with visible capillaries clearly outlined. Passing stool just scrapes them, causing bleeding. So, I got sent home with orders to rest, take iron supplements until my blood counts improve, and then follow up with a surgeon. I also had to take two units of blood (another 1.2 liters) to get back on track—huge thanks to the donors. On top of that, I've been put on a strict diet: a stomach-friendly plan designed to fix my blood levels without wrecking my guts further. It’s awful. Banned: pork, lamb, any processed meats, anything fried, cakes, chocolate, hazelnuts, seeds, seafood (except boiled white fish), and even fruit is off-limits unless it's cooked or baked apples. Allowed: boiled meat, homemade lean unsalted soup, certain vegetables... that's it. If anyone wants to know about constipation, I could write a whole book on it.

P.S.

You really need to chug a ton of water. Not just because it’s healthy, but because it actually helps your digestion. Honestly, I can't even remember the last time I drank this much water.