I have been gone. Perhaps you've noticed. Perhaps not, in any case, I have been notably absent- at least in my own mind. It is actually more than absent, it was completely incommunicado- it didn't start out that way, no, not at all. It started out as an inconvenience and escalated to a quest. A long and arduous quest from which I am not sure that I have recovered- or ever will. But wait, I digress. Before I get too far afield, let me start at the very beginning- a very good place to start (cue Julie Andrews)
About a month ago, I had a slight mishap. I am using the term "mishap" in order to be delicate, as this was a delicate situation. It was a situation that perhaps one or two of you have found yourselves in. Perhaps those of you that have experienced childbirth or sat on cold concrete for too long. I don't have all of the details as to what brings on this "mishap" just know that my own mishap was a combination of too many potato chips, not enough fiber and well an 8 hour car ride. At least that's what the doctor said.
Why are you looking like that? Yes, I did go to a doctor. I didn't go to the doctor the minute I felt some discomfort, but I can assure you (no pun word intended) that about a week later, when it felt as though Jack The Ripper had taken up lodging in my rear orifice- yes, I DID go to the doctor! As a matter of fact, I drove at about 90 miles an hour to the doctor!
The pain was incredible. I thought I would pass out each time I had my morning constitutional. And while this may not be the type of thing that most people spend time wasting the written word on, well- I certainly wish that someone had. After all, I had no idea what was happening. None whatsoever.
Sure, I knew what Preparation H was, and I knew the little cutesy term "balloon", but to be quite frank, no one ever told me that there was a remote chance I would be chosen as the storage unit for the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade Balloons!! You know, the 50 foot Bullwinkle and Rocky balloons, the Powerpuff girls, King Kong- those balloons. I was shocked and appalled- but even worse- I was at a loss for what to do. Prep H just wasn't even going to touch this problem- I needed big guns and I needed them now. Hence, a trip to the doctor.
Unfortunately, my doctor turned out to be that little old man character that Tim Conway used to play. This guy took 10 minutes to get from the hand washing sink in the room to the chair in the room. The room is only 4 feet wide! I was wearing the standard gown of embarrassment (again, no pun) and just wanted some type of medicine so I could go home. Was it that easy? Not a chance.
"Assume the position," he says like this is a weekly weight watchers meeting or something.
"Do you want the V position or the coffee table position or the stretching cat position?" I ask him.
"I want the normal position," he said.
If I had known what the normal position was, I wouldn't have babbled on about letters, animals and pieces of furniture. As it turned out, the normal position was a sideways fetal position, hugging your knees and hoping that you aren't going to hear a speculum or some such nonsense in the background. Nope, only some gloved digits and a Cadillac Seville.
When I came to, Tim Conway handed me a piece of paper that had some initials on it. "You have a small tear, it happens from lack of fiber, no water or eating potato chips. Here's something that will make it feel better. You can get it over the counter" he said.
And that is how the journey began. I went to drugstore after drugstore, pharmacy after pharmacy trying to find this... this... this golden snitch of the anus so to speak. It was nowhere to be found. I went further and further afield, Paris, Rome, Athens... finally, two weeks and many sitz baths later I climbed to the top of the Himalayan Mountains to consult the Wise Man of the Mountain. He was devine and exhalted, and knew the answers to all quests. He would heal my suffering, clear my confusion and end my quest. It had been an arduous journey, but it was finally over. I would be healed as soon as I asked my question.
"Oh wise one," I began. "I have traveled many miles at great peril. I have suffered each step of the way, but my path has lead me to you. I need an answer to a question which has been burning in my mind. Will you please grant me the honor of your wisdom?"
He sat cross-legged on his small stone pillar, looking ancient and all-knowing. If he granted my request, I could possibly be a new woman by tomorrow. I held my breath and finally he spoke:
"My child, I will grant you the honor you speak of, what is your question?"
Like flood waters running out of me I poured out my tale in a huge rush, explaining the non-existent over-the-counter cream, the ancient doctor, the Macy's balloons- all of it- every last bit of it and then asked my question: "And so, great one, as you can see- what I need from you is the name and location of the thing that will heal this malady and allow me to regain my life!" There, I had said it and I would now receive the answer to my quest.
"Ya know" he began, not sounding like an ancient wise one at all, "I wish I knew what to tell you- really, for my sake as well. I mean, you can guess how bad it must be for me sitting on this cold stone slab day after day- I feel like I have a NASA weather balloon lodged in there! If ya hear of something can you email me so I can get some relief?"
And that was it. That was all he had for me and besides that, you don't have to trek the Himalayas anymore to see him- a simple email will do the trick. I came back home and sat down (no pun intended) to write this blog. Smarting from the knowledge that while, in this day and age, we can clone a sheep, store 1000 songs on something as big as my palm, and email a guru who sits high atop the Himalayan Mountains- we are still at a loss when dealing with an angry asshole. Go figure.
Till next time,
TOL
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