I wasn’t going to write about my pregnancy hemorrhoids but then “hemming and hawing” came to me this morning and I thought, who am I to deny fate? So here’s a post about my butthole.
If I had to choose a theme song for the past couple of months, it would be Busta Rhyme’s Light Your Ass on Fire. That is because MY ASS HAS BEEN ON FIRE for the past couple of months.
I’ve had mild hemorrhoids for most of my adult life. Who hasn’t? An itch here, a smear of blood there, big deal! A few years ago I made an appointment to go to the doctor’s because I had this weird bump on my knee where I’d gotten hit with a softball. (I don’t play softball—I was just helping a friend so her team didn’t have to forfeit a game. What a bad, bad sport grown-up softball is. Softballs ain’t soft! Out-of-shape adults have no business hitting and throwing hard ass balls at each other!) Anyway, I made an appointment and my doctor wasn’t available so I had to see a different one, Dr. H.
Dr. H was the coolest. She was the doctor for an Olympic-gold-medal-winning team, and so nice, and so helpful. SO helpful indeed, that after she ultrasounded my knee and confirmed it was a clump of scar tissue or something from getting hit from that piece of shit softball!!!!, she asked if I needed help with anything else. I was in the middle of a bloody b-hole bout, so I decided to bring it up.
Me: Now that you ask… I think I have a hemorrhoid but I’m not 100% sure.
Dr. H: Well your uncertainty is easily remedied! Roll on over and pull down them pants.
I rolled over and pulled down my pants.
Me: Aghh this is really gross. I am so, so sorry.
Dr. H: I know, this is the worst thing that’s ever happened to you. But I look at buttholes all the time, doesn’t even faze me. Yup, congratulations. You have a hemorrhoid!
And that was the extent of it. At my next checkup, my primary care doctor saw it on my chart and brought it up. For some reason I thought he might want to take a gander at it too? I asked him and he politely declined. HAHAHAHA of course he did. Being a doctor must suck.
Since then, I’ve lived in a happy state of mild hemmy flare-ups. Until I started having kids.
After giving birth to my son my undercarriage was in, um, some disarray. There were tears and rips and stitches and things even the doctors didn’t recognize, along with some popped hemorrhoids. To say I was uncomfortable would be an understatement.
I always assumed it was all pachinkal related—the tears and whatnot. NOT SO! That was all hemorrhoidal, my friends! I now know that because I popped a humungous hemorrhoid a couple months ago and my downstairs felt the same as it did post-birth. My god. Who knew a throbbing purple grape coming out of your butt could cause so much agony?! I was nearly incrapacitated.
I was sure it wouldn’t go away until after I give birth, but it only took a week and a decent amount of blood loss before it started feeling somewhat normal. I believe the grape has shrunk and just become part of my b-hole topography. I’ve since popped another, smaller hemorrhoid that isn’t nearly as painful, but still requires careful treatment.
My treatment plan, which is the same advice you read/hear everywhere:
- A few times a day (certainly after any pooping takes place), soak butt in hot water for 10ish minutes
- After soaking, fold a soft ice pack in half then stick in buttcrack, between pants and underpants
- After icing, stick a witch hazel pad in buttcrack and leave it for a while
I don’t mess with Preparation H because I’ve used it before and don’t notice that it does anything, and it’s gross to apply.
P.S. I FaceTimed my mom before posting this to ask if it was too gross to talk about hemorrhoids, and she was outside and her 65-year-old friend/neighbor heard me and said “I GET ‘EM TOO, THEY’RE NO FUN.”