Once upon a time, there was a girl named Melody.
She has reddish-brown hair and big brown doe eyes. She lives at home with her loving parents and her teenage son. She spends most of her time inside of her pretty purple paradise, wearing comfy cozy pajamas, reading blogs, working on her novel, smoking Newport 100’s, drinking coffee, and excessively ‘liking’ other people’s updates on Facebook.
Melody is a dedicated mother, daughter, and friend. She enjoys her the role as the Family Historian/Paparazzi, making movies, playing Golf, Words With Friends, and Bejeweled Blitz. Melody also has extensive Food Allergies, Lupus, Sjogren’s, and Crohn’s Disease. But none of her ‘Annoying Medical Conditions’ could have possibly prepared her for the nightmare she was about to face.
One day, out of the clear blue sky, something awful happened to Melody. It was something so terrible she vowed she would never to tell another living soul. However Melody can’t keep a secret to save her fucking life. And she had to tell someone. So, she called her very best friend, otherwise known as Annie The Barber. Melody was fairly certain that she is the only woman on the face of the earth to ever go through such a horrific experience.
But she was wrong.
After speaking with Annie The Barber, Melody was surprised to discover her best friend knew another woman who had gone through the very same thing. Within a matter of days, Melody learned of three other women who had also undergone through this painful ordeal. Melody began to wonder…maybe this situation really isn’t all that uncommon?
However, if it’s never happened to you personally, chances are you’ve never heard about it. And that’s precisely when Melody and Annie The Barber thought about discussing such a Taboo Topic, in a public forum, for several reasons.
At first, Melody resisted. She spent countless nights considering the consequences that might accompany this sort of material. She truly wrestled the pros and cons, because even though she’s been dubbed ‘The Queen of T.M.I.’ she really worried about offending some of her readers.
Eventually, Melody ultimately decided she could and should allow everyone to see behind the proverbial curtain. Because this is the second time it’s happened to her. And, she totally kept her mouth shut the first time around. And, let’s face it. Women have to deal with enough shit alone. Opening a dialog about this subject matter just might help someone else.
WARNING: This post is not for the squeamish. It’s graphic. And it’s gross. Proceed at your own risk, with caution.
One afternoon Melody was happily typing away on her Macbook Pro when she suddenly felt a pinching sensation Down Below. Since Melody ‘manicures’ the Bearded Clam she thought it was probably just an ingrown hair. She applied a small amount of Zinc Oxide and a Band-Aid, before proceeding with the rest of her day.
Much to Melody’s dismay, within twelve hours the pea-sized lump on her Pink Taco lip had swelled up to the size of a hard-boiled egg. And no, that’s not hyperbole.
The welt on her Bejingo became so inflamed she was sure it would burst merely from the pressure. Melody literally wanted to DIE from the excruciating pain. She could not sit. She could not stand. And she definitely could not walk.
With tears streaming down her sweaty face and desperate for relief, Melody begged her mother to take a look at her VaJayJay. And if that wasn’t humiliating enough? After one glance at her Peekachoo, Melody’s mother ran next door to ask the neighbors girlfriend to come look at the wounded area. Said neighbor’s girlfriend had gone through a similar situation a few months back and she might know what to do.
After both women assessed Melody’s Poontang, they realized they had no choice but to go to the Emergency Room. Melody had a high fever and she was vomiting. She never felt so helpless in her whole entire life.
Luckily, the Emergency Room wasn’t too packed and they were able to treat Melody pretty quickly. Of course the OBGYN on-call was a man. But at that point he could have been an alien for all she cared. He promised to stop the agony.
According to the physician, apparently women have what’s called Bartholin Glands. They are located at the entrance to a woman’s vagina, one on each side. They are small and cannot be seen or felt when they are normal. Their function is to secrete fluid onto the mucosal (inner) surface of the labia.
[Seriously, that’s a real question.]
Clearly, Melody’s Bartholin Gland wasn’t doing its’ job. Unfortunately for her it became blocked, thus the gland could not secrete whatever it’s supposed to. Which, in turn, lead to an infection, otherwise known as an Abscess Cyst. And that meant Melody would have to endure minor surgery called “Marsupialization.”
Now, even though Melody was never so happy to sit spread eagle, in stirrups, with a huge spotlight shining on her Broken Box, the actual process is equivalent to mid-evil horrific.
[Hang on to your hats and lunches, people. This is where things get really nasty.]
A Bartholin Cyst Abscess needs to be opened a lá kangaroo pouch style, incised and drained, followed by suturing the incised wall to remain in an opened position, in order for the healing to occur by granulation of the tissue formation from the base of the incision. After being drained, they take a sample of the fluid, to send out for cultures.
And if there was ever an appropriate time to dispense Propofol, this would have been that time. For Christ sakes, they knock a person out at the dentist office. And that’s precisely when Melody wished she was having a root canal instead.
Sadly for Melody, the medical professionals would not sedate her. Instead, Melody had a gigantic needle filled with local anesthesia rammed into her Delicate Flower three different times. And that’s when Melody’s Vahgeena acted like a total Pussy. And not just because Melody is terrified of needles, but because that feeling was worse than giving birth. And she was in labor for 42 hours y’all.
Thankfully, the lidocaine worked immediately and Melody did not feel anything else. Melody cried tears of relief while the doctor stitched her lip back together and wrote out her prescriptions.
After Melody came home and resting comfortably in her bed, the anesthesia wore off. The site of her incision and the stitches felt like a million, hot, burning, stinging, knives – and the area was beating like a heart pulsating. She stayed flat on her back, popping Vicodin like tic tacs — for three days in a row.
Four days after the incident, Melody still couldn’t drive, or stand for too long. And she couldn’t walk more than two steps without looking she suffered a mysterious horseback-riding incident. Melody’s mother drove her to the follow-up visit with her regular doctor. They removed the stitches and three feet of gauze packing from the incision, otherwise that could have gotten infected. And that’s when Melody received the results of the cultures they had taken. On top of everything else, she had a rare strain of a Staph Infection.
She remained home for several more days hopped up on heavy-duty antibiotics, and painkillers, completely pant-less. It was probably the most traumatic seven days of her entire life. In fact, Melody is still not on speaking terms with her Nether Region.
And that my friends, is how Melody was forced to climb ‘Broke Box Mountain.’
* Did you throw up yet?
Oh, and now Melody is considering making T-Shirts that say: BOW TO THE BOX.
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