You bet your BOTTOM dollar, you SHOULDN'T read this post

I have written and deleted, and then rewritten and redeleted this post 100 times. For the most part, I think it is a fine post… 60% of the way through. That’s when the story becomes unreadable. After much thought, I have decided to write the post, in its entirety. However, because I have a conscience, I am doing so with a warning.

Warning: Only read the first half of this post. Do not read the second story! Seriously… don’t read it. You wont like it. Its awful from start to finish and I don’t want it getting into peoples thoughts. So only read the first part, and then when I say… yes, I will clearly mark when to stop reading… STOP READING.

Part One: Ultrasound

I have spent my life in a constant struggle to keep my midriff hidden. I know I am not alone in this endeavor. This means my tummy must be covered by clothes, but it also means much more than that. Every t shirt I wear has to be just long enough to extend past my belt line, but also made of fabric flexible enough so as to prevent the bottom from coming up when I move my arms. There is also an art to how I handle the tuck of a dress shirt… I wont get into it, but its labor intensive and created to form an optical illusion to hide the fact that I am out of shape. Fuck, I lost my virginity wearing nothing but a cummerbund in attempt to hide my tummy... I also wore a bow tie, so as to stay classy. 

Suffice it to say, I am always cognizant of my weight issues. So it is probably for the best that I was getting my ultrasound during the beginning of the coronavirus outbreak, because I was sufficiently distracted from the details that go in to getting an ultrasound.

For approximately a year, I have been dealing with an umbilical hernia. It doesn’t cause me much trouble, but once in awhile it protrudes for a bit then recedes again. The fear is that one of these days the hernia will not recede and my intestine will end up strangulated.

When I walked into the waiting room at the hospital, there were people coughing and wearing facemasks, and I was fighting the urge to freak out every time anyone made a noise. WE ARE ALL GOING TO DIE!!! I was obviously distracted from the details of my own impending procedure. When the ultrasound tech came out to usher me back for my procedure, the process I was about to face instantly flashed before my eyes and caused a moment of terror. See, the problem was that this tech was maybe the best looking healthcare professional I had ever met. She had dark shiny black hair, pulled back in a ponytail, to reveal her gorgeous olive skinned face and bright green eyes. A Greek goddess. As we walked back to the ultrasound room, I INSTANTLY remembered the two different methods of ultrasounds involved in the births of my kids… and I was almost 100% sure I could eliminate the method in which she inserted a wand into my vagina.

This only left the option where she would be maneuvering my tummy all around the room, covered in jelly. I barely remember removing my shirt and getting on the table, because I was so fixated on the fact that she was holding a giant clear bottle of what appeared to be lube. Now, I have seen my fair share of porn, so I knew one of two things was about to happen… and as I heard the farty sound of goo being squirted from a half empty bottle, and felt cold liquid pouring down over me and making a pool in my ample belly button, I realized she was using the lube for the thing I didn’t want her to be doing.

I can't tell you what was on the screen as she worked.

I can't tell you how her face looked as she worked.

I can only tell you that there is a blinking green light on the ceiling about 45 degrees behind the head of the table I was laying on, because no part of me was strong enough to bring myself to make eye contact with the woman who was gently kneading my tummy like a cumbersome toddler trying to roll out playdough. Bless her heart, she tried so hard to make this experience less suicide inducing, but there is no way to make that pleasant. I could feel this gooey monitor pushing my tummy back and forth, as my pride slowly drained out through my butt. She was asking me what I was going to do this weekend, and how work has been going… and all I could do was day dream about driving into on coming traffic on the way home.

OK!!!! NOW!!!! STOP READING NOW!!!!!! TURN AROUND AND GO BACK TO WHERE YOU CAME!!!!!

Part 2: Ultra POUND

My hernia isn’t the only issue I’ve been dealing with. I have had some issues with urination, and some unpleasantness in my taint. A few weeks after my ultrasound, I had an appointment to get my prostate checked. Now, I know what you ALL are thinking… “Dude, I am sure your taint is always unpleasant”. I don’t mean its unpleasant for the audience, I mean its unpleasant for me. I am referring to sensitivity behind the taint. Being a 40+ male, I know that these are warning signs of prostate issues, so I went in to get examined… but no good deed goes unpunished.

As soon as I walked in the examination room, I knew I was not in for a smooth experience. While this wasn’t my regular Dr I was seeing, I have been seen by him. His demeanor is much like a humorless David Puddy from ‘Seinfeld’, very dry and monotone… but he looks like Bluto from the 1980 Robin Williams ‘Popeye’ movie, and just as surly.

I wasn’t in the room for more than 5 minutes before Dr. McSmilesAlot gruffly informed me “you know how we check prostates, just bend over the table and step out of your pants”. Dude, so much for romance, Jesus.

Its funny how blank your mind becomes when your resting on your elbows, bent at 90 degrees over crinkly butcher paper covered hospital bed.

I was oddly calm as I was fixated on the yellowish wall as the exam began. I could hear frustrated sighs from my Dr. SOOOORRRR-RRRRY!! I hate to be putting you out like this. Is this not pleasant for you!!! Because I am having the best time ever. Thats when I found out my Dr is humorless.

Dr: “STOP CLENCHING” he exclaimed angrily

Now, no matter how indignant I wanted to be in my response, there is nothing more humbling than someone chastising you while playing “hide the finger” at your expense. 

Ed: “sir, I am not clenching. I assure you I am not trying to delay the completion of this process”. 

He didn’t seem to be buying what I was selling.

Dr: “Than you must have the tightest anus ever”, he snapped back. 

I slowly looked back over my shoulder and made eye contact with him

Ed: “Thank you?” I said in a questioning tone.

This was the last straw as far as Dr SausageFingers was concerned. He pushed forward with the power of 1000 charging rhinos. I kid you not, he ended up tearing my anus. I went in to the Doctor anticipating an antibiotic prescription, and ended up leaving with what will eventually be 3, 21 day antibiotic prescriptions for a prostate infection, and a topical for my now expanded bottom. This Doctor seems to lecture me every time I see him, but I still wasn’t expecting him to tear me a new butthole.