“What are your plans for this week?”
That was the text I got from Mr. Fix-It last night.
The text I was at a loss for how to answer.
There are some conversations that should just never happen.
Detailing to the new man in your life an impending butt probe (or even just the crown you need for your old lady teeth) ranks right up there.
And so, I was at a loss.
Unsure of how to respond, I eluded to an outpatient procedure and the fact that I would be out of commission tonight and tomorrow.
Because that was the best I could come up with.
We’ve discussed my condition a few more times since that original conversation, but nothing really at length. Nothing where I’ve revealed how bad it really is. How horrific my bad days can be.
In the back of my head, all I can think is that there is nothing attractive about that. There is nothing attractive about illness, pain, and infertility.
And in the beginning stages of this new relationship; I still want this boy to find me attractive.
Not weak. Or ill. Or broken.
So while he knows the basics, what he knows beyond that is extremely limited.
In fact, I’ve really just got him on a need to know basis when it comes to this whole endometriosis thing.
And the new boy definitely did not need to know that I would be drinking my fill of obnoxious liquids starting at 7 tonight and then again at 9 tomorrow morning. Aiming for a complete and total clear-out of the digestive system.
I’m pretty sure I don’t want any guy in my life to know I even have anything to clear out at all.
As a matter of fact, let’s go ahead and add pooping to the list of things I don’t do (ever) as far as prospective partners are concerned.
But really, how was I supposed to explain this? Or the fact that I probably wouldn’t be up for seeing him or hanging out for the next 2 days.
Even though it’s already been a few days since we’ve last seen each other.
Even though under any other circumstances, hanging out with him really would have been at the top of my to-do list.
But alas, the butt probe takes precedence here.
The butt probe, and the crown.
Which for the record; went swimmingly well today. My mouth is definitely still sore, but seeing as I haven’t been allowed to eat all day, that’s really not that big a deal. And the discomfort involved was far less than what I had been anticipating.
So that’s a win.
I survived getting a crown, and now I only have to make it through the next 24 hours of evacuating everything inside of me and then allowing a doctor to enter what is decidedly an out hole with a very long probe.
Piece of cake.
But also very obviously not something that anyone should be around to witness.
Ever.
In fact, probably not even something I should be writing about here.
But when has that ever stopped me before?
So, the boy got a limited version of why I would be out for the count for the next two days.
And then, I wound up going over to his house. Still recovering from my sick bed and all.
Because really; I didn’t want to have to wait 3 more days before I could feasibly see him again.
This morning, as we were getting ready for work, Mr. Fix-It kept trying to feed me. And I kept explaining that I was officially off solid foods. Starving myself for my upcoming “procedure”.
He found the whole thing entirely too amusing.
Leading me to wonder if this smart boy I’m still getting to know doesn’t have at least an inkling of an idea of what I’m about to endure.
As I pulled into work this morning, I got this text:
“Good luck starving yourself today… I will be thinking about you come lunch time. :)”
To which I might have playfully called him an expletive or two.
“Awe, I do hope all goes well…” was his response.
I hope it goes well too.
Because in less than an hour, I am going to be starting this bathroom adventure.
And I am less than enthused.
In 24 hours though, it will all be over.
And then these conversations that should just never happen can fade away.
Because really, I’m not so sure it’s healthy for one to be so focused on what is about to go into (and come out of) their backside.
24 hours.
Then I plan on pretending that none of this ever happened.
For both my sake, and the boys.
ADSPACE
