The Pilonidal Cyst Experience

there's nothing like an illness to make you aware of your body. i nominate the pilonidal abscess as one of the top ten most unpleasant experiences in life that don't involve death. although i was violently ill, i was forced to ride the subway 40 minutes each way on a hot, miserable day, fighting back nausea and tears, to get care that would be covered by my insurance.

i planned to board a plane on friday to visit my parents, but the nasty infection in my butt cleft wouldn't hear of it. i vomited copiously half an hour before i planned to leave for the airport, so i decided at the last minute that traveling was inadvisable. the money i spent for the plane ticket was wasted since the policies of the three airlines involved in my itinerary (if you guessed that i bought my ticket on priceline, you're right!) dictate that one cannot make any changes to one's trip past the day before the date of departure, except for a death in the family. now i'm contemplating not attending the BlogHer conference as planned, and using that weekend to fly to tennessee instead. the budget mistress inside is giving me a lecture about sticking to planned expenditures, and i don't want to take any more time off work this summer.

despite its stellar pain-killing qualities, i am at a loss as to why anyone would do codeine recreationally. it was responsible for my pukerific experience the day i planned to leave for tennessee. did i mention that it tastes bad? i used ibuprofen when the pain wasn't so bad, but codeine was required to cope with the moments of most acute agony -- most notably after my period started four days into my pilonidal abscess saga. this truly was my week of glory.

last night, i finally lanced the abscess. all movement below the waist was excruciating, and i couldn't take it anymore. the abscess had begun to drain, but not enough to allow healing to begin. you haven't lived until you've spent half an hour on a toilet, hunched over, fingering the thin skin covering a soft, mushy abscess to find the right place to poke with a hypodermic needle. the relief was instant, despite the subsequent disgusting task of squeezing out the accumulated pus.

emily0, who missed her father's birthday celebration this weekend to take care of me, was amazing, especially on that hysterical day when i was trying to arrange an appointment with a doctor. little tobino, my baby cat, was equally solicitous. during the first night of alternating sitz baths and draining of the abscess (before i lanced it myself), he looked quite worried. i think he knew i was ill because he could smell the infection. he would peer over the edge of the tub to look at me with concern, touching my shoulder with his little paw. it was quite adorable.