Hemorrhoid...Another Word for Singing the Blues, or Alicia Keys

Good morning!  I’ve decided to use my blog not only to writing, music, and other facets of entertainment, but, also to share my journey. I’ve had significant health problems for almost two years. Initially, my rheumatologist diagnosed me with systemic lupus (SLE) on June 19, 2013. However, the medication wasn’t working and I kept getting worse and developing new symptoms. So, after second, third, and fourth opinions, my neurologist believes instead I have fibromyalgia. 
In April 2014 I visited yet another rheumatologist who I hoped would be familiar with autoimmune disorders. Following an extensive intake during my initial appointment, I found a place where the doctor also listened to me. Based upon my blood work, the doctor believes I have Sjogren’s Syndrome. She also made the diagnosis of Fibromyalgia and pre-lupus. I’ve never heard of pre-lupus, but, hopefully it stays in the “pre” category.
Thank you for listening, each week I will have a new installment chronicling my journey- Which is now more frustrating than ever. I test positive for ANAs in my blood, but, the lupus tests are negative. There are several varieties of autoimmune disorders, with different caveats and health variations. Learning to live with the unknown has become my routine.

Ahoy Fellow Fathomers welcome to this weeks’ health installment. Today it’s all about the butt, and taking care of it. I’m talking specifically about hemorrhoids. Yes, I talked about poop last week and this week I’m trending in the same direction.
While on vacation I talked with you about the migraine I developed our final night at the beach. The pain went away, but, left me with a horrible headache hangover, just like being bruised everywhere. Thank goodness the drive home was rainy, kept the sun from glaring into my raw feeling eyes. The trip was good, and not as long as some road trips I’ve taken. Made it home and all was good. I was finally starting to feel better until….yea, THAT pain.

Let me backtrack. I had my first child when I was 18. That little cute boy was the light of my life and I couldn’t wait to meet him. Toward the end of my pregnancy, my midwife pointed out something…and I mean literally, that I wasn’t aware of. She asked me, “is that hemorrhoid bothering you?”

I almost bolted upright. I was 18 years old, I wasn’t supposed to get hemorrhoids. Ugh, gross! It never hurt or bothered me, so, I just went on and tried to forget about it- I couldn’t. I got curious, so, I used a handheld mirror and in the most awkward of big belly poses, kept trying to see this weird new appendage floppy forth like low hanging fruit. It didn’t look like much, almost like some giant, mega-sized, bionic skin tag. I reasoned with the situation, since it seemed to have a personality of its’ own. Kinda like if it would keep to its’ turf and not cause problems, I wouldn’t pursue the preparation H. live and let live, so to speak.

I never really had problems with the issue until about 14 years later. I bought some bags of play sand for a sandbox for my next two babies. If you’ve never handled bags of sand, they are about 80 pounds each. I guess I lifted one too many and had my first major flare up. I got some cream, applied per instructions and the problem finally rectumfied, I mean rectified itself. The low hanging fruit blasted onto the scene and made its’ presence known. Touche’, it’s on. Just like an old west gun slinger, I fired up the nozzles and let the cream fly. I H-bombed that damn thing into submission. It beat a hasty retreat back into the recesses of the netheregions from which it descended.

Let’s fast forward another ten years or so. It’s Tuesday, June 3, 2014. I’m minding my business. I got up to get ready for work. Tired from vacay, headache hangover finally gone away. Butt, I mean, but, I had a new pain, one that I hadn’t had in years. Dear Lord, it couldn’t be, could it? In the shower I confirmed my suspicions. The curse was back and in full force. What the hell did I do this time? I didn’t lift anything heavy. I got up and walked a few times during our road trip. I took bathroom breaks, and as you read last week, I made peace with my lower bowels and gave it more harmonizing foods to keep the peace and regularity.
What the hell?

All I knew is like the Fast and Furious, this thing burst forth and had me singing Alicia Keys like no other. I went from Ain’t No Sunshine to This Girl is on Fire in a matter of hours. Dear Lord, had it morphed? Was there more than one? I would walk funny if I didn’t deal with the situation, stat.

I bought the good ole’ cream and some ass-tringent…I mean astringent wipes, and began waving the white flag of surrender. Just like the Hulk, I don’t like it when it’s angry. After a week, I still had no relief. So, I went with the big guns, I brought in the butt crayons.
It only took a few days, but, once again, I would be victorious.

What I want to know now is why? What did I do to deserve this flare up? Especially out of the blue. It made no sense, so, I began research. From what I read, people with fibromyalgia or other autoimmune disorders may be at risk for greater occurrences of hemorrhoids. Joy. Something else to add to the list of never ending symptoms and health related issues. Now that I know about it, at least I can be prepared. I wasn’t joking when I talked about the medications I use.

First, the cream. Preparation H is great, but, honestly, I used the store brand. It was much cheaper and contained the same ingredients. This worked when the flare was medium. For the more severe, I purchased the store brand of hemorrhoid suppositories. I know it seems weird, but, I promise, for a moderate to painful flare up, these “butt crayons” are the best thing going. Last but not least, I highly recommend the “asstringent” which is witch hazel astringent. Its’ cooling action helps to soothe the pain and especially use when using the restroom to prevent more irritation from rubbing too hard with toilet paper.

I know this may make some of you uncomfortable, others giggle, and some just roll your eyes. But, I’m telling you, I hope you can learn something helpful from all the candid life lessons I share. It’s really all I’m trying to doo…I mean do.



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