Over the Cancer, but Not the Side Effects

I have a doctor appointment with a new doctor.  For someone who used to have to be on the verge of death to go to the doctor, I sure have become little miss something's-wrong-i-need-a-doctor-NOW!  Dr. Williams (who I didn't realize when I made the appointment, is located in Avon at some schmancy new Colo-Rectal Specialty joint.  Yeah.  That's right.  I'm off to the butt doctor today.

Seems that all of the damage the external radiation did to my lady basement is not really healing up on it's own. So my dear Dr. Kebria referred me to this dude to check out what's wrong with my rump.

I am NOT excited.  Definitely hoping no one says the word "colonoscopy" to me today.  *shudder*  But honestly, I'll go for whatever needs to be done because what is currently going on down there is kind of a nightmare.  I'm still in a lot of pain whenever I have to poop, there seems to be unhealed tears, that pesky hemorrhoid hasn't gone back where it came from, and I won't even get into the rest of the weirdness - but knowing that it's worse and more miserable AND embarrassing than the stuff I DID just tell you, well, that should give you some idea as to how unhappy my arse is.

And then, you know, as if that wasn't enough excitement and fabulousness... I'm pretty sure I have a urinary tract infection.  I know that it is not uncommon to get those when you start having sex after a long period of not having sex.  And while I would not call using my miserable dilator every day "having sex," I can see where it is similar enough to likely produce the aforementioned results.  So, I'm taking the over the counter pills for that (you know - the ones that make your pee red-orange?!) and wondering if I need to go see my PHP, too.

Good lord.  I thought I'd be DONE being a wreck in that area by now.  Mercy!!  Now please you enjoy your non-disastered-nether-regions days, my dears!

Love love, Phoebe