Up Your Bum-Intrusion By Default

Did you ever watch any of the old Frankenstein or Mummy movies? Remember the parts where the innocent unlucky victim was alone in the room and the only way out was confrontation with Boris Karloff? Well, there I was, in Dr. Calm’s office, alone, shitting myself and watching him hold this heathen device in his hand, yes, that one, the one that was supposed to fit right into my smallest hole.

“It’s OK, you’ll be asleep” he said.

Fucking right I will!  My thought process all over the place, sweat pouring down my underpants into my bum crack, and my eyes twitching like they were on remote control for some high speed camera shot! Click, click, click, STOP! Wait! Another thought.

“I heard they can put you into a tank filled with water and break them up with ultrasound?”

“Well, technically….NO. You see that little white spec?” he was pointing to my Xray on a light board.


“It’s in a position where it’s going to go into your bladder, get stuck in the bladder wall, try to escape and eventually get stuck in your penis as you try to expel it. It will be unbearably painful and, your penis in all it’s glory, is too small on the inside to eject the stone without our help”

I just looked down, my head bowed in shame. It was at that point I wish I had been carrying a magnifying glass, just to make my dick look larger.

“So I’m screwed? I asked, embarrassed and frustrated, and obviously wishing for a simpler way out of this mess. There was something about this man that I didn’t like, and something about his manner that was creepy, just like Karloff. I was determined to get this stone out of my bladder using my own methods, beer, beer and beer! I made my excuses and I left. That, my friends, is where the story really begins.

2 months passed, I was sitting, pants half down after just jumping out a shower and getting dressed whilst doing emails, in my hotel room in New York, when suddenly I had a pain in my side. The pain grew stronger, and stronger, until I was in so much pain, I felt that my stomach was going to explode and a beast from that Alien movie was going to eject itself from within, in all its bloody glory! I managed to sit up, barely, grab the phone and dial 0. Within 3 minutes, the security staff, along with an ambulance crew, were breaking, quite unceremoniously, into my room. I was on a gurney and headed to the Roosevelt hospital, on 59th and 10th, alarm bells ringing, before I could even shout ouch!

The ambulance crew were great. Even though I was in so much pain, they knew I had a sense of humor by the jokes I was attempting to blurt out, in between apologies and tears, and they did their best to assure me that stronger men than me had been in a worse state and in more pain, without any humor. I told one of the Paramedics, who was getting married the next day, that there are three rings in marriage, the engagement ring, the wedding ring, then the suffering! They loved it, and it bought me just a little more morphine to dull the pain, which by now on a scale of 1 to 10, was a 50.

Inside the hospital and after puking up all over the elderly blond nurse who was attending to me, I was sedated with yet more morphine. My backside, oh yes, remember the bum? The place this whole story began? Well my backside was so high, it was bringing a new meaning to the phrase, floating in paradise. After two X-rays and a visit from a great doctor, they told me, wait for it, that I had a kidney stone! Well duh!!

Doped up like a druggie, I was discharged at noon and sent back to CA with pain killers and a note to go back to see Boris Karloff. My diet of beer had failed miserably. My demeanor was shot to pieces, and the thought of 6 hours on a plane with a strong chance of a repeat performance in the pain department, well, there are few words that can explain to you the mental anguish and fear that situation created. But, armed with 6 Vicodin, a lot of courage and of course, beer, we took off and I was back in CA safe and sound and sans pain.

A colonoscopy? Who gave a damn, other than the invisible polyps lingering deep within my buttock walls. Right now, stones were the priority, and a second date Boris was on the immediate horizon, but this time I was going in armed with information and ideas, all presented to me by my new found friends at the Roosevelt hospital in NY.

Karloff, as he will forever be known, was so creepy, he looked like absolute confirmed proof life existed after death! His manner was slimy, his speech,deathly, his eyes, bulging, his white coat, so white, it was translucent and luminous all in one. I listened, he spoke, but not a word went in and stayed there. I had made my mind up, many moons ago, a tube in the penis was worth a kick in the crotch, so, again, I got up, X-Rays in hand, walked out and never went back. I hadn’t suffered any further pain, and having spoken to many people who’d gone through similar experiences, they suggested I give it time. Time was all I had, so why not, I was in no rush to be any doctor’s bitch and in no hurry to take a deep breath and suffer the pains and arrows of my outrageous fortune. Back to plan B, beer, water, and asparagus.

Asparagus, is filled with asparagine acid. A friend of mine had sworn to me that eating one pound of asparagus and drinking three Cokes, then 4 pints of water, would dissolve anything that was lodged in either my kidney or bladder. In for a penny, in for a pound, and in for a complete shock with the smell coming from my pee after consuming such large amounts of my now favorite vegetable! It was a diet to die for. Every time I got a twinge of pain, anywhere from my kidney downwards, it was straight to the stove, after a visit to the local Safeway, on with the asparagus, and munch, munch, munch, drink, drink, drink, peeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee, forever peeeeeeeeeeeee, NO PAIN! It worked! It bloody well worked. I even went to see a second Urologist, who sent me for another X-ray, and low and behold, the stone had vanished. I have to say though, he bleieved it was lodged in my bladder wall, and he too wanted to stick that tube up my penis. What is it with these men, they must have a fixation on other peoples discomfort.

I was standing in the bathroom one morning, peeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeing, and boy, after 6 bottles of water and Coke, you never believe that pee will end, trust me on that, when suddenly, it felt like I had needles piercing my ever so sensitive testes. Yes, needles! Then, quicker than I could say, fuck me, the pain disappeared.  I was standing there, one hand holding my shocked member, the other scratching my shocked head. Don’t worry, I was careful not to get both hands mixed up before washing them first! No Pain, No Pain, I was delirious. But, what just happened? It would appear the stone shattered into millions of tiny wee pieces, but that’s honestly just a guess. I have no idea really, and all that mattered at the time was three months of horrific pain and discomfort had miraculously vanished. No need for surgery, no need for anything other than belief and an insistence that I do it my way and not the way the medical profession expects.

All of this happened three years ago, and to this day I still wash my kidneys out with water, lots of it, and asparagus, every day. And the colonoscopy? Well, despite good intentions and lots of encouragement from some very important people in my life, I am still plucking up the courage to make that appointment. It will happen soon, I promised myself and all the people who love me. If only cauliflower would suffice, instead of a tube up my bum!!

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