Status: Ouch



  1. December 2015 I had emergency surgery for a strangulated (AKKKRGHGGK) hernia. In March or April the hernia “recurred,” so I had it fixed again in December.
  2. Either my hernia has re-recurred or I’m growing a penis and it’s lopsided.
  3. Okay, now picture this: I’m laminating cover pages in my bedroom. The laminator is on the dresser and the laminating sheets are lying on the bed. It’s too dark to see what I’m doing, so I stretch my arm up to turn on the fan light, can’t reach it, climb onto the bed, stand up with one foot on the laminating sheets, and as soon as I put my weight on it, the laminating sheet and I slip right off the bed like a ski jumper, I crash-land on my tailbone, and I crack my head and elbow on the edge of the door. My head is bleeding and a nice lump is forming— just about the size of the brain of a person who would put her weight on a pile of laminating sheets. This is maybe half an hour ago. My head and arm don’t hurt any more but my back is killing me. (It’s okay to laugh.)

    Victorian Lady

    Victorian Lady III, John O’brien,

  4. I doubt that I can get in to see the surgeon tomorrow. I don’t know what they do if a hernia repair fails more than once.  It would be easier if it were a penis. They could just lop it off (sorry, guys), plus I’d be a celebrity. Tabloids would pay big money for my story. Wouldn’t they? Or is growing a penis something that happens to 70-year-old women all the time these days, what with GMO crops and all? You just don’t hear about it because what woman wants the world to know her hormones are that out of balance? A little unwanted facial hair, deepening of the voice, we expect those things, but if I’ve got enough rogue testosterone to grow a penis, then I want some of the benefits, too: hit the ball farther off the tee… bench-press my weight (whatever that means)….

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