Yes, it’s another post surgery post.  Sorry, guys, I’m not really feeling that imaginative lately, but everyone I’ve told the following story has laughed hysterically, so here goes.

The day that I had my surgery–just to refresh, it was gastro-intestinal, and it was the sort of procedure that involves the phrase “go up through” as opposed to “cut into”–the nurse who handled the discharge handed me a massive sheaf of papers that were my “post-care” instructions.  The ones I really cared about were the prescription for painkillers and anti-inflammation drugs.  “Now this,” she said, handing me yet another piece of paper, “is your pharmacy checklist.”

We’ve previously discussed my love of pharmacies.  Moving on.

The list included the usual sorts of things that one would expect for gastro-intestinal surgery: fiber tablets to keep one “regular,” pills to, um, soften things up, pills to unblock things, and then there was an item cryptically labeled “ADR pads.”

“What is an ADR pad?” I asked, innocently.
“It’s like a maxi-pad for your butt.”
“Excuse me?”
“it’s like a maxi-pad, but it’s shaped for the rear portion of your anatomy.”
Blank look.
“Honey, there’s going to be bleeding and discharge.  Do you want that in your drawers?”

“No … ” I said, thinking that I hadn’t quite thought it through when celebrating my big spring cleaning accomplishment of clearing out my underwear drawer of all of the sets of thread-worn undies with holes and failing elastic.  Had I but waited a month …

“So, you’re going to want ADR pads.  And, frankly, if you can’t find those, you can always just”–snicker–”use a straight-up normal maxi-pad like the rest of us.”

Fab-you-luss.

On the way home, we hit the pharmacy and I turned in my prescriptions, and then wandered up and down the aisles looking for the items on my shopping list (seriously, have you seen the price on Metamucil lately??) before finally coming to the last one.  Now, if I were an “ADR pad,” where would I be?

I decided to look in the aisle with the Depends.  After all, nothing screams “embarrassment” like anyone under the age of “still breathing” spending lots of time in the adult diaper section debating the pros and cons of different products:

“This one says it’s for men!”
“Yeah, that’s because they put extra padding in the front.  You need it in the back.”
“You know, I think you can get a little more volume if you speak from the diaphragm.  There may be someone in the produce section who didn’t hear that.”
“You embarrass too easily.”
“If you were in my shoes, would you want people knowing that?”
“No.  But I’m not in your shoes, so it’s funny.”

As I turned around to peruse the other side of the aisle, where the tampons were kept, Ray decided that we had had enough searching on our own and announced that he was going to ask for help.

I followed, hobbling along as quickly as I could.  By the time I got to the counter, he had already managed to flag someone in the pharmacy.

“Do you carry ADR pads?”
“What?” asked the pharmacist.
“ADR pads.”
“They’re–” I started to explain.
“They’re like a tampon, but for your butt,” said my loving partner, who is just too innocent in these matters.  (For my gayboy readers: if you don’t know why this is funny, ask a close female friend, but first make sure that there is no possible way she can file sexual harassment charges against you.)
Off of the pharmacist’s look of pure horror, I said, “No, it’s a pad.”
“Oh,” Ray said, “Is a tampon the one that you–”
“Yes,” I said.  “This is more like a maxi-pad for your butt.”
“For anal leakage,” Ray added.

I’m sure that the pharmacist thought we were putting her on, but just to be certain, the following conversation was had between the pharmacist and her colleague in the back.  Extremely loudly.  The type of loud that you’re pretty sure can be heard in the parking lot.

“Sonia?”
“Yes?”
“Have you ever heard of Anal Leakage Pads?”
“Anal Leakage Pads?  I’ve never heard of such a thing.  What are they for?”
“Well, this gentleman standing right here in front of me is asking about–what are they called?”
“ADR pads,” I said, very meekly and kind of wishing there was something that I could hide behind.
“–ADR pads.  Have you ever heard of those?”
“And they’re for anal leakage?”
“I suppose so.  Yeah, they’re for anal leakage.”
“I don’t think I’ve ever heard of anything like that specifically for anal leakage.  I mean, we have a bunch of absorbent pads, but I don’t know of anything specifically marketed for anal leakage, no.”
“Yeah, I’ve never heard of anything for anal leakage either.  Hey, did you see where he went?”

Retelling this story now … I realize what a fortunate thing it was, indeed, that the anesthetic from the operation was still kind of with me at that point. And no, I will not tell you what I wound up going home with.

And so.

I realized well after the fact that I had completely misheard my surgeon when we were discussing the procedure in the first place.  He had told me that most people only have to take a couple of days off and are back at work in just a few days.  I clearly heard “back at work” as “healed completely,” which is most definitely not the case.

I went back to work on Tuesday of this week, but I’m still hobbling about. I’ve been using my brand new monopod that I bought with the gift certificates I got for my birthday as a cane (haven’t actually used it with my camera yet).  If nothing else, it reminds me to walk slowly.  There are still good days and bad days, but slowly I’m starting to get better.  Which was kind of the purpose in the first place