The Pet of the Month
Member
I never really thought I'd ever see an operating room in my lifetime.
Every time I went to see my doctor, at most I'd come out with a Vitamin D prescription. I knew myself as a healthy young man, maybe a little bit on the chunky side, but I was making strides to change that.
But I had to put those plans on hold.
Before I begin, I just want to give a little rundown of what a pilonidal cyst is.
It's an abnormal little pocket that opens up near the buttocks, right around the tailbone area, and usually contains hair, dirt, debris, etcetera. It tends to occur when an ingrown hair malfunctions(?) and gets stuck. As a result, this little pocket opens up in an attempt to flush out the hair, along with a big ugly boil typically on the right buttcheek. I like to call this a "second butthole", except the only feeling you'd get from touching it is sharp pain.
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pilonidal_cyst
I remember around February I had a rather painful rash on my butt, and a few weeks later I remember the boil showing up. When I thought about it at first, I thought it was just a pesky bit of acne that showed up in the worst spot imaginable. I would poke it, squeeze it, and yank at it. But, it never off, and as a matter of fact it was starting to be a pain in the patooey
A month later, I noticed that there were stains on the boxers I would wear. It was this yellowish-red stain, and each pair of boxers had it in the same spot. When I asked my sister about this, she insisted that I wasn't washing properly, which is preposterous! I have a wonder bidet fitted on my toilet, and it's always kept my butt squeaky clean, so I blew her off.
I remember after a few days of pondering, I had the urge to scratch my rash really bad. When I finished, I checked my boxers.
I realized it was blood.
___
And so, from that day forth I ignored the pain by my butt and I gradually forgot about it. I lived my days in slightly uncomfortable and rarely, but almost unbearably painful days. I had a hard time doing a lot of things that required running or bending down, making my work harder in the process, but I figured that this bad rash would eventually go away.
But it wasn't until E3 2017, when I realized I needed to get a doctor's opinion. For Microsoft's conference, I had made a bet on NeoGAF and with friends that I would shave my butt if the Xbox One X was going to be priced at $399. Lo and behold, Phil Spencer climbs the stage and crushes my soul by quietly announced the system at $499. A bit beaten, but that's okay. I pull out my trust Wahler's peanut shaver and quickly get to work.
It was then I noticed the boil. It had gotten bigger, and uglier. I tried to pop it again, but instead of pus, I got blood. That's when I knew I had to see a doctor.
I made a call to my physician, and I had an appointment set up for next month. When I got there, I expected to walk out with a prescription for skin cream or something of the sort. Instead, I got something a little unexpected: two pairs of hands, one from my doctor and another from a shadowing doctor, digging into my butt. But the surprise came from behind
: the blood wasn't coming from the boil but rather a pocket, or as we know the pilonidal cyst.
Instead of cream, I left the doctor's office with a prescription for amoxicillin and a list of nearby general surgeons. Let me tell, finding a surgeon that not only accepted my insurance and was available as soon as possible was a challenge in itself. In the end, I had an appointment set at a nearby general surgeon for the 20th of August. I ask a friend to come with me, and when we went to that appointment, I was given cephalexin along with a surgery date: the 8th of September, 2017. She also told me that, to remove this cyst, an entire chunk of my butt would have to go. Not replace, go.
My mind was uneasy. I had never been under the lights of an operating room and I would never had imagined that it would happen right then, right there. After I spoke to my friend for a bit, I dropped him off home and raced back to my place. There, I sat in my little beanie bag, looking up at the ceiling. My anxiety was getting the best of me at that moment, because the ceiling light was beginning to look a little different.
Bad references aside, I gotta say that the days leading up to the surgery were making me uneasy. In fact, a week before my surgery, when I went to my physician to get a total blood count I had fainted! The idea of sitting in a room, in a situation I couldn't control was bothering me too much. But I had to go with this, because the pain of the cyst was unbearable, the smell was awful because of the waste it was flushing out, and also because backing out of this now could cost me a lot.
___
The last week leading up to my surgery was depressing and anxiety-ridden. Nothing seemed to go right at my job, I got a speeding ticket from an officer, and my surgery day was looming. My friend, who's basically my brother from another mother, even he couldn't calm my nerves, no matter how hard I tried.
Relief, however, sometimes comes from the weirdest places. This time, I found it from my Xbox Live friends. I had talked to them about my issues before, but I never really went into detail about my upcoming procedure, and it was there where I remembered one of the friends I was talking to was an in-patient for kidney failure. It was there I realized how many IVs she was going through, and it was that moment I remembered the times I'd donate games for kids to play at various care centers, seeing them hooked up to all sorts of devices day in day out, rarely moving a single muscle.
It was there I knew I was a coward.
But even with that realization, I found comfort in this. I wasn't alone, and these folks have spent much, much longer hooked to a IV than the tears I cried a few nights ago. I knew what I had to do, and I knew it wasn't going to be easy, but I wasn't the first and I wasn't going to be the last.
After my little epiphany, I waited for the day of my surgery. Reluctantly I may add, but even with the comfort I received, I couldn't exactly sit still either.
___
Yesterday, I got a call from my hospital. My reception at work is terrible, so the caller left a voicemail of the time I would have to arrive, and where.
"7:00 AM, second floor, don't eat or drink the midnight of your surgery."
When I heard that, I was somewhat taken aback. That was early! Could I really muster the courage to show up? How would this even work?
My mind started racing again, but I once again remembered my little epiphany from a few days ago, which helped soothe my nerves. I also did some boxed breathing, and let me tell you, it's very helpful.
I went to sleep last night, a little anxious. My friend and my mother both agreed to accompany me to my surgery, which helped a lot. Let me tell you folks, I don't know what I'd ever do if I lost my mother, she is the chicken soup for my soul, so to speak.
I woke up at 5 AM, dehydrated and hungry, but I couldn't do anything about that. I picked my mother and my friend, and we drove to the hospital.
___
7 AM rolled by rather quickly, mostly due to the drive. My mother and I walked up to the reception desk, and we were directed to the second floor. My friend had gone off to park my car, so I had quite some time to ponder things. My mother poked me on the cheek and said not to worry, she knows what surgery feels like, and boy does she know (that's another story entirely).
We get to the second floor, where a bunch of nurses were running about, going into rooms down the hallway. The place didn't look too bad, the floors were all tiled but had yellow tints to them, and the walls could have looked a bit... nicer. But as walked down the hallway into the out patient area, we came up to a desk by our left and talked to an older nurse. She asked for my ID and insurance card, which I presented. After some paperwork, I was directed to the room behind me and given socks and a medical gown that presented my buttocks rather nicely.
After I put on the gown, I tucked myself into the slightly rough, yet comfortable single bed that was raised ever so slightly. I covered up, and pulled out volume six of the light novel I was reading, Danmachi. But I was getting anxious again, so I made small talk with my friend, making bad jokes about going to sleep and never waking up. We also watched the TV they had, watching as Irma slowly but surely blared its way towards Florida.
A few nurses came to see me, checking on me and whatnot, and before I knew it one came in with an IV bag. And this is where I started to slightly panic. The nurse saw this, but before she could react my mother came up to me and held my right hand. I swear to you, if she wasn't there I'd have fallen into a coma. But the nurse was good, too, talking to me as she threaded the IV into my veins. It felt funny at first, the tube felt foreign and uncomfortable, yet not unbearable. I shuddered as the cold liquid poured into my system, and my left hand felt stiff. I was afraid to look, afraid to move it for fear of tearing out the tube, but gradually I got used to it. And before I knew it, I was back to cracking jokes with my friend. Bad jokes, yes, but I could take all the cheesiness I could get.
A few minutes later, a physician came in to talk to me about my procedure, and about ten minutes later, a male nurse came in to take me to the 6th floor holding room. As I was pushed out, my mother gave me a kiss on my forehead, and I will admit I let out a tear, but there wasn't anytime to be a crybaby. My cart was pushed into a special looking elevator, and I was moving upwards, my ears popping as we passed each level. I made small talk with the nurse, asking if he ever had any procedures done on his well-being and the like.
I was pushed into a holding room with two other patients present, and as I was placed into my little chamber one of the other patients were being pushed out, ready to be put to sleep. I whimpered out a "good luck!" as he left the room, and I sat still, watching The Weather Channel.
Each person in the holding room was in line, and they were each meeting with various folks with various specialties. Anesthesia, surgeons, nurses, you name it. With each passing minute I was getting a bit nervous, but a lot of that stemmed from me needed to urinate all of a sudden. When I asked a nurse about this, she gave me a urinal cup, but unfortunately my muscles were too tense, and I couldn't relieve myself. My anesthesia doctor noticed how nervous I was, and asked if I wanted my procedure done differently.
He talked about how I was going to be put to sleep, or general anesthesia, via a tube and a mask. But there was another option I could take: I could be awake, but numbed instead in the area that was going to be operated. I considered the second option out of curiosity, but how many times in my life would I be put to sleep? I was more interested in that, so I stayed with the former. He nodded his head, and he left.
Ten minutes later, I had 8 people surrounding my bed. I was next in line for the surgery. A nice older doctor by the name of Pam grabbed my left, and she told me this:
"You'll be all right, think of me as your mother and I'll think of you as my son."
Now I'd like to mention that, as I was being pushed out of the holding room, I didn't feel nervous at all. Rather, I felt at piece. Maybe it was because of Pam's kindness, or maybe it was from the curiosity I had on about being put to sleep. Either way, before I knew it, I was pushed into the operating room, the big surgical light staring up at me, the light that I was once scared of, now seemed to be almost soothing.
Several nurses and doctors surrounded me, moving all sorts of things around. I watched in amazement at how efficiently these people worked, and it gave me courage. I also remembered my friend, and the kids I've met over my years of donating old software, and I felt quite all right.
A nurse came up to my left, prepping a bag in his hand.
"It's time for you to sleep buddy," he said, removing the IV bag from my bed, "I'm going to ask you to count to ten."
Pam was to my right, holding a mask of some sort, which was connected to something I couldn't make out. She placed it on my mouth, adjusting it ever so slightly so it wouldn't touch the tip of my nose.
"Deep breaths, son."
The last thing I remember before I fell asleep was this sudden, bizarre feeling in my left arm. It was like something was reacting, fighting, almost burning. It was like a headcrab had jumped onto me, taking my body over. I closed my eyes, but I don't think it was voluntarily.
The next thing I knew, I was having an incredibly strange dream (and I don't get dreams a lot). I was playing Hatsune Miku Future Tone, except I was... in the audience? I saw button prompts, I saw lights, I saw Kagamine Rin and Meiko and all these vocaloids. And then I think I was home, sitting at my dining table. There was paperwork that I couldn't make out in front of me, but I filled them out diligently. No noise, no disturbances, nothingness echoed throughout the house. I'll admit, it was rather nice.
___
The next thing I remember, I was awake. My butt was sore, my throat burned, my arms were tired; I was aching.
A nurse was kind enough to wake me from my slumber, apparently my surgery was only fifteen minutes long, but I slept for over an hour and thirty minutes! I knew I was a deep sleeper, but I would never have imagined my entire morning asleep with a chunk of my butt missing.
She tore off these adhesives on my chest, I assume for the EKG machine. I couldn't tell what was going on, my head was in a daze. I was groggy and tired.
I was wheeled back into my room, and on my way there all the nurses cheered for the little guy who, sorta, bested his fear of surgery.
When I got to my room, my mother bent down and hugged my head, but I couldn't quite make her out, nor could I see my friend next to her. I looked at him, and he smiled, brushing his nose.
"You made it!"
I tried to speak, but all I managed was a cough. A loud one at that. But I smiled, and looked back at him.
"Unfortunately."
And that's when I knew I was all right.
________________________
I'm sorry for the long thread, but I just had to share my experience. It was a unique one, at least to me, and I hope that I entertained someone that decides to read all of this out, and possibly future cyst patients like me.
Thank you.
Every time I went to see my doctor, at most I'd come out with a Vitamin D prescription. I knew myself as a healthy young man, maybe a little bit on the chunky side, but I was making strides to change that.
But I had to put those plans on hold.
Before I begin, I just want to give a little rundown of what a pilonidal cyst is.
Well, to the extent of my knowledge.
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pilonidal_cyst
I remember around February I had a rather painful rash on my butt, and a few weeks later I remember the boil showing up. When I thought about it at first, I thought it was just a pesky bit of acne that showed up in the worst spot imaginable. I would poke it, squeeze it, and yank at it. But, it never off, and as a matter of fact it was starting to be a pain in the patooey
A month later, I noticed that there were stains on the boxers I would wear. It was this yellowish-red stain, and each pair of boxers had it in the same spot. When I asked my sister about this, she insisted that I wasn't washing properly, which is preposterous! I have a wonder bidet fitted on my toilet, and it's always kept my butt squeaky clean, so I blew her off.
I remember after a few days of pondering, I had the urge to scratch my rash really bad. When I finished, I checked my boxers.
I realized it was blood.
___
And so, from that day forth I ignored the pain by my butt and I gradually forgot about it. I lived my days in slightly uncomfortable and rarely, but almost unbearably painful days. I had a hard time doing a lot of things that required running or bending down, making my work harder in the process, but I figured that this bad rash would eventually go away.
But it wasn't until E3 2017, when I realized I needed to get a doctor's opinion. For Microsoft's conference, I had made a bet on NeoGAF and with friends that I would shave my butt if the Xbox One X was going to be priced at $399. Lo and behold, Phil Spencer climbs the stage and crushes my soul by quietly announced the system at $499. A bit beaten, but that's okay. I pull out my trust Wahler's peanut shaver and quickly get to work.
It was then I noticed the boil. It had gotten bigger, and uglier. I tried to pop it again, but instead of pus, I got blood. That's when I knew I had to see a doctor.
I made a call to my physician, and I had an appointment set up for next month. When I got there, I expected to walk out with a prescription for skin cream or something of the sort. Instead, I got something a little unexpected: two pairs of hands, one from my doctor and another from a shadowing doctor, digging into my butt. But the surprise came from behind
Instead of cream, I left the doctor's office with a prescription for amoxicillin and a list of nearby general surgeons. Let me tell, finding a surgeon that not only accepted my insurance and was available as soon as possible was a challenge in itself. In the end, I had an appointment set at a nearby general surgeon for the 20th of August. I ask a friend to come with me, and when we went to that appointment, I was given cephalexin along with a surgery date: the 8th of September, 2017. She also told me that, to remove this cyst, an entire chunk of my butt would have to go. Not replace, go.
My mind was uneasy. I had never been under the lights of an operating room and I would never had imagined that it would happen right then, right there. After I spoke to my friend for a bit, I dropped him off home and raced back to my place. There, I sat in my little beanie bag, looking up at the ceiling. My anxiety was getting the best of me at that moment, because the ceiling light was beginning to look a little different.
Bad references aside, I gotta say that the days leading up to the surgery were making me uneasy. In fact, a week before my surgery, when I went to my physician to get a total blood count I had fainted! The idea of sitting in a room, in a situation I couldn't control was bothering me too much. But I had to go with this, because the pain of the cyst was unbearable, the smell was awful because of the waste it was flushing out, and also because backing out of this now could cost me a lot.
___
The last week leading up to my surgery was depressing and anxiety-ridden. Nothing seemed to go right at my job, I got a speeding ticket from an officer, and my surgery day was looming. My friend, who's basically my brother from another mother, even he couldn't calm my nerves, no matter how hard I tried.
Relief, however, sometimes comes from the weirdest places. This time, I found it from my Xbox Live friends. I had talked to them about my issues before, but I never really went into detail about my upcoming procedure, and it was there where I remembered one of the friends I was talking to was an in-patient for kidney failure. It was there I realized how many IVs she was going through, and it was that moment I remembered the times I'd donate games for kids to play at various care centers, seeing them hooked up to all sorts of devices day in day out, rarely moving a single muscle.
It was there I knew I was a coward.
But even with that realization, I found comfort in this. I wasn't alone, and these folks have spent much, much longer hooked to a IV than the tears I cried a few nights ago. I knew what I had to do, and I knew it wasn't going to be easy, but I wasn't the first and I wasn't going to be the last.
After my little epiphany, I waited for the day of my surgery. Reluctantly I may add, but even with the comfort I received, I couldn't exactly sit still either.
___
Yesterday, I got a call from my hospital. My reception at work is terrible, so the caller left a voicemail of the time I would have to arrive, and where.
"7:00 AM, second floor, don't eat or drink the midnight of your surgery."
When I heard that, I was somewhat taken aback. That was early! Could I really muster the courage to show up? How would this even work?
My mind started racing again, but I once again remembered my little epiphany from a few days ago, which helped soothe my nerves. I also did some boxed breathing, and let me tell you, it's very helpful.
I went to sleep last night, a little anxious. My friend and my mother both agreed to accompany me to my surgery, which helped a lot. Let me tell you folks, I don't know what I'd ever do if I lost my mother, she is the chicken soup for my soul, so to speak.
I woke up at 5 AM, dehydrated and hungry, but I couldn't do anything about that. I picked my mother and my friend, and we drove to the hospital.
___
7 AM rolled by rather quickly, mostly due to the drive. My mother and I walked up to the reception desk, and we were directed to the second floor. My friend had gone off to park my car, so I had quite some time to ponder things. My mother poked me on the cheek and said not to worry, she knows what surgery feels like, and boy does she know (that's another story entirely).
We get to the second floor, where a bunch of nurses were running about, going into rooms down the hallway. The place didn't look too bad, the floors were all tiled but had yellow tints to them, and the walls could have looked a bit... nicer. But as walked down the hallway into the out patient area, we came up to a desk by our left and talked to an older nurse. She asked for my ID and insurance card, which I presented. After some paperwork, I was directed to the room behind me and given socks and a medical gown that presented my buttocks rather nicely.
After I put on the gown, I tucked myself into the slightly rough, yet comfortable single bed that was raised ever so slightly. I covered up, and pulled out volume six of the light novel I was reading, Danmachi. But I was getting anxious again, so I made small talk with my friend, making bad jokes about going to sleep and never waking up. We also watched the TV they had, watching as Irma slowly but surely blared its way towards Florida.
A few nurses came to see me, checking on me and whatnot, and before I knew it one came in with an IV bag. And this is where I started to slightly panic. The nurse saw this, but before she could react my mother came up to me and held my right hand. I swear to you, if she wasn't there I'd have fallen into a coma. But the nurse was good, too, talking to me as she threaded the IV into my veins. It felt funny at first, the tube felt foreign and uncomfortable, yet not unbearable. I shuddered as the cold liquid poured into my system, and my left hand felt stiff. I was afraid to look, afraid to move it for fear of tearing out the tube, but gradually I got used to it. And before I knew it, I was back to cracking jokes with my friend. Bad jokes, yes, but I could take all the cheesiness I could get.
A few minutes later, a physician came in to talk to me about my procedure, and about ten minutes later, a male nurse came in to take me to the 6th floor holding room. As I was pushed out, my mother gave me a kiss on my forehead, and I will admit I let out a tear, but there wasn't anytime to be a crybaby. My cart was pushed into a special looking elevator, and I was moving upwards, my ears popping as we passed each level. I made small talk with the nurse, asking if he ever had any procedures done on his well-being and the like.
I was pushed into a holding room with two other patients present, and as I was placed into my little chamber one of the other patients were being pushed out, ready to be put to sleep. I whimpered out a "good luck!" as he left the room, and I sat still, watching The Weather Channel.
Each person in the holding room was in line, and they were each meeting with various folks with various specialties. Anesthesia, surgeons, nurses, you name it. With each passing minute I was getting a bit nervous, but a lot of that stemmed from me needed to urinate all of a sudden. When I asked a nurse about this, she gave me a urinal cup, but unfortunately my muscles were too tense, and I couldn't relieve myself. My anesthesia doctor noticed how nervous I was, and asked if I wanted my procedure done differently.
He talked about how I was going to be put to sleep, or general anesthesia, via a tube and a mask. But there was another option I could take: I could be awake, but numbed instead in the area that was going to be operated. I considered the second option out of curiosity, but how many times in my life would I be put to sleep? I was more interested in that, so I stayed with the former. He nodded his head, and he left.
Ten minutes later, I had 8 people surrounding my bed. I was next in line for the surgery. A nice older doctor by the name of Pam grabbed my left, and she told me this:
"You'll be all right, think of me as your mother and I'll think of you as my son."
Now I'd like to mention that, as I was being pushed out of the holding room, I didn't feel nervous at all. Rather, I felt at piece. Maybe it was because of Pam's kindness, or maybe it was from the curiosity I had on about being put to sleep. Either way, before I knew it, I was pushed into the operating room, the big surgical light staring up at me, the light that I was once scared of, now seemed to be almost soothing.
Several nurses and doctors surrounded me, moving all sorts of things around. I watched in amazement at how efficiently these people worked, and it gave me courage. I also remembered my friend, and the kids I've met over my years of donating old software, and I felt quite all right.
A nurse came up to my left, prepping a bag in his hand.
"It's time for you to sleep buddy," he said, removing the IV bag from my bed, "I'm going to ask you to count to ten."
Pam was to my right, holding a mask of some sort, which was connected to something I couldn't make out. She placed it on my mouth, adjusting it ever so slightly so it wouldn't touch the tip of my nose.
"Deep breaths, son."
The last thing I remember before I fell asleep was this sudden, bizarre feeling in my left arm. It was like something was reacting, fighting, almost burning. It was like a headcrab had jumped onto me, taking my body over. I closed my eyes, but I don't think it was voluntarily.
The next thing I knew, I was having an incredibly strange dream (and I don't get dreams a lot). I was playing Hatsune Miku Future Tone, except I was... in the audience? I saw button prompts, I saw lights, I saw Kagamine Rin and Meiko and all these vocaloids. And then I think I was home, sitting at my dining table. There was paperwork that I couldn't make out in front of me, but I filled them out diligently. No noise, no disturbances, nothingness echoed throughout the house. I'll admit, it was rather nice.
___
The next thing I remember, I was awake. My butt was sore, my throat burned, my arms were tired; I was aching.
A nurse was kind enough to wake me from my slumber, apparently my surgery was only fifteen minutes long, but I slept for over an hour and thirty minutes! I knew I was a deep sleeper, but I would never have imagined my entire morning asleep with a chunk of my butt missing.
She tore off these adhesives on my chest, I assume for the EKG machine. I couldn't tell what was going on, my head was in a daze. I was groggy and tired.
I was wheeled back into my room, and on my way there all the nurses cheered for the little guy who, sorta, bested his fear of surgery.
When I got to my room, my mother bent down and hugged my head, but I couldn't quite make her out, nor could I see my friend next to her. I looked at him, and he smiled, brushing his nose.
"You made it!"
I tried to speak, but all I managed was a cough. A loud one at that. But I smiled, and looked back at him.
"Unfortunately."
And that's when I knew I was all right.
________________________
I'm sorry for the long thread, but I just had to share my experience. It was a unique one, at least to me, and I hope that I entertained someone that decides to read all of this out, and possibly future cyst patients like me.
Thank you.
