Life in the Boomer Lane by Renee Fisher
This week, a close friend of Life in the Boomer Lane called her and started the conversation with the following: “I called you because you are an expert in prolapse.”
This is, unfortunately, correct. Some years ago, LBL was in the shower, minding her own business, when she was suddenly aware that something was falling out of her body. In spite of having little or no understanding of the workings of human anatomy (it being loosely associated with science, a topic LBL tends to avoid at all cost), LBL did understand that organs should stay inside bodies and not pop out at random, and usually inopportune, moments.
LBL went gingerly from bathroom to bedroom to consider what might be happening. Although she tried to keep her legs squeezed together, every few inches or so she would stop and look behind her, convinced there would be a liver or kidney lying on the floor. She feared that, by the time she reached the bedroom, she would have no internal organs left. She wondered if she had enough empty plastic containers to gather all the organs up and store them in the refrigerator, until she could bring them to the ER.
Instead, the called the doctor. Her hysteria was, unfortunately, not matched by that of the receptionist. Instead, she was told to come in and the doctor would “have a look.” LBL insisted on speaking to a nurse. She asked the nurse if she, LBL, should stay in bed until the appointment, with a container between her legs. The nurse, having the same degree of non-alarm as the receptionist, said, “No worries. Go about your business as usual.” LBL could envision an eventual lawsuit in her future but did as the nurse instructed.
The doctor’s bored pronouncement was “prolapse,” a word with which LBL was, until that moment, unfamiliar. LBL learned that, because ligaments stretch over time, several items could, if not fall completely out of the body, at least play peek-a-boo with unsuspecting human vessels. The three chief game-players were uterus, bladder and bowel. In LBL’s case, it was her bowel. The good news was that the doctor did not mention heart, lungs, liver, kidneys, colon or pancreas. Those organs apparently had no difficulty staying in place and doing, hopefully, whatever it was they were supposed to do.
Alert readers may now have noted two things: One, that LBL hasn’t mentioned appendix or gall bladder. This is because LBL believes that these items have no purpose and were there because prehistoric men needed them for running after mastodons or running away from them, their chief pastimes. The other is that LBL may have omitted several other vital organs. She refers readers back to the second paragraph, in which she states she has no knowledge of human anatomy. Readers who missed this will be sternly reprimanded.
And now, back to the post: A subsequent minor procedure on the part of a surgeon coupled with a stern talking to by LBL, repositioned the bowel, where it has remained ever since. But LBL, having endured this trauma, and in spite of what the doctor said, will no longer trust any of her organs to stay in place. Instead, she sees them as temporary guests, willing to stay in place as long as they continue to be amused by whatever it is that LBL is doing.
And so, based on her personal experience (assuming that there might be other non-personal experiences that we might have), was able to be the voice of reason with her friend. Her friend calmed down. She went to the doctor, and the pronouncement was a prolapsed bladder.
LBL now offers her medical advice services to any readers with pressing issues (no pun intended). If she has experienced whatever you have, she will either give you sound advice or simply say “Damn. That crap happens to me too.” The latter should, if not cure your issue, at least make you feel a lot better to know that others share your misery.
See more musings of a former hula hoop champion at lifeintheboomerlane.com.