At 6'1" and a 423 pounds, I am classified as morbidly obese. And while I do not envision myself as such, I am. I can see it in all my pictures and videos. Somewhere around the 375-pound mark, somewhere in late 2005, I developed what appeared to be hemorrhoids. A digital examination by a general practitioner was given with a result of twelve internal hemorrhoids on the inside of the inner sphincter. Well, that's what he said.
I felt like I had molten, broken shards of glass in my ass. Armed with Glycolax, lots of water, and the knowledge that I was constipated, I proceeded to research this condition. I discovered through medical sites, Wikipedia, and other sources that I had apparently forgotten how to shit because of chronic constipation. That my exertions to rid myself of stool had caused what I came to believe and have confirmed to be hemorrhoids.
So I changed my diet to high fiber, tried to relax without pushing to hard, etc. Three days, no shit. "Damn!" I thought as I realized how scared I had become. I used to shit like three times a day and it was joyous. I'd read in there. I called it "doing the Bundy."
I could feel something up in there, now. The doctor told me stay on the Glycolax to soften the beast up. But the discomfort was growing into a true pain. I'm Caucasian, but now I was becoming ghostly white.
Mother administered Fleets enema to me. She said, "Wow, you held that in for forty-five minutes. I have never witnessed anyone do that before!"
She has worked in hospitals for the last forty-five years.
I could feel the pounding sensation now. The need to go. The uncontrollable desire to defecate wildly. So I sat there, and I felt my anus extend, but I resisted against the coarse grain of the turd head. As I relaxed, I felt the Fleets give rise to the turd column like a slick lubricant for a piston. "Ung!!!!!!" -- and then it DROPPED, and I threw my magazine on the floor before me! But my anus CAUGHT IT! And SHOT IT back UP!
I knew what was going to happen next -- the sensation of explosive diarrhea was upon me. I threw off my glasses into the sink. "AHHHHHHNgggggg!" -- and then down it shot! I think something ripped! "AAAAAAHHHHng HUuuuug ARRRrrrggg ooooOOOOONNNNGGGGAAAa!" Blblbllbllblblblblbllblbl was the sound I heard as I felt a sixty-car train pass through my bowels. I vividly imagined my intestines straightening out to pass this offender.
As the caboose entered the bowl below, it all ended with a loud bloosh! I exhaled and sighed in relief.
After I had regained my composure, I inspected this compaction. Its diameter was that of a hair spray can. It had a length of about eighteen inches and the consistency of concrete. Mother poked it with a paint mixing stick and the stick nearly broke. I don't have a picture or video of this; to this day, I wish I did. Instead, all I have is this memory.
Hemorrhoidal cream, fiber, Glycolax, and strong pain relievers such as Advil Liquid Gels have been my friends in this regard ever since. There was lots of blood for at least nine months while I healed up. We suspect it was from all the lacerations that must have been created by the compaction. Eventually the feeling of the individual hemorrhoids subsided into the feeling of single, large mass.
I have not bled in my stool for the past nine months now. Today is June 17, 2008. I suspect most of the bleeding to have been the result of an anal fissure caused by the passing of the mega stool.
Each time I manage to recover, the recovered period lasts longer and longer. I hope that means I am healing down there. But since the time recovered tends to last longer, or is at least more profound than before, I go to the doctor if the discomfort last for more than two days. And each time, they find less than they found before.
In order of visits, this is what they've discovered:
Initial diagnosis: twelve hemorrhoids.
Second diagnosis: inflammation of the anus.
Third: six hemorrhoids.
Fourth: It looks "a little red down there," they said.
Fifth: "I couldn't visual anything," he said. "So, it's in my head, is that what you are saying now?" "I believe so. But just in case, let's schedule a colonoscopy so we can find out what is bothering you so much." Feeling violated and raped while I wiped the KY from my ass, I said, "You do that."
The last time there, I was treated like utter shit. I have used the Houston VA on all but two of those visits. The last visit was with the Houston VA.
Currently when I defecate, I can make the initial pass. If I stop right there, wipe, and apply a little of the white hemorrhoidal cream, I will be alright for the rest of the day. However, sometimes, I feel the need for a second wave. This is a coin toss. There is a one-in-two chance there really is a second wave. However, if there is not, then it is my sphincter muscles spasming and I get to endure the pain of the softball for a while. It is no longer hot, nor molten, nor is it feeling like broken glass any more. But it still feels like the size of a softball and the consistency of a rock!
My regimen now is to wait about an hour to see if it is a basic spasm or if it'll go away. If it doesn't, I proceed to take a hot shower and spray a hot jet up against the anus to help relax it. Then after drying off, I take four liquid Advils and apply the hemorrhoid cream. After about four more hours of sitting on a donut and really taking things easy, the pain goes away, and I'm free to enjoy life for another week. Usually.
If anyone knows what is really my problem or has a better idea of it than I do, please let me know.
