May 16, 2011

I’m pretty sure I have a hernia.

Because it makes sense.

Because I have nothing else going on in my life currently.

Nothing on the calendar.

Wide open.

Why, I would LOVE to stop everything and have surgery!

(She says sarcasmically)

Wait, sarcasmically isn’t a word. But it should be, I think it would make a lovely word. Let’s enter it into the dictionary. How do you do that? Do you just mail them a letter?

sar·cas’mi·cal-ly adv. word mash of sarcastically and cosmically. Suggests a sharp taunting and often cynical tone, also denoting a cosmic reference, because galaxies and cosmos are cool. Cool like lasers and dinosaurs are cool. Like if dinosaurs had lasers beams and shot each other. Um, hello, I just solved dinosaur extinction. You’re welcome very much.

How about you mail that sucker in to Webster and Merriam, because that’s practically a gold mine, and I’ll stay here and continue to freak out about my possible hernia? Mmm-kay?

I’m so good at delegating.

So, I think I have a hernia because this knot of skin sticks out of my belly button area. And it didn’t used to do that.

Plus I can squish it back in, and when I do it makes this smashiebubbly noise. Like if you had a ziploc bag filled with chocolate buttercream frosting and you mashed it all around in your hands.

Ooooh chocolate frosting…

But I’ve had it for about a year, and haven’t done anything about it. Even though every time I mention it to someone, they’re like, “GO TO THE DOCTOR!”

I told my friend Dena about it and she practically called the doctor for me, and then offered to drive me, and she even told me that if I went she’d bake me a cake with chocolate frosting…

But I’m in denial.

It doesn’t really hurt. And I’m afraid that if I go to the doctor they’re going to tell me that I need to have surgery. And I can’t deal with that right now. I have stuff to do.

Plus, who’s going to watch my kids when I have to recover?

They can’t really watch themselves yet.

I know, I’ve tried.

And, surgery hurts.

And doctors can leave gauze or a turkey sandwich in your insides.

But I’m jumping to conclusions. Maybe it’s nothing.

Maybe it’s a impacted turd that just won’t move along.

Maybe it’s scar tissue from my 16 year-old decision to get my belly button pierced.

Gosh, I was cool.

Maybe it has something to do with the two pregnancies that I’ve had.

Maybe it’s all in my head and it’s absolutely nothing at all.

Writing this post is freaking me out just enough to finally call the doctor, and I just made an appointment for later today.

I’ll let you know…

Ooh, thrilling right?

Nothing like a good cliff hanger.


Since all of you are all sitting on the edge of your seats, I can tell, by the way, by the overwhelming amount of comments I’ve received (which is ZERO!), It’s fine. It’s not like I keep track of those things or anything, and it’s not like I read your comments at 4 am when I should be sleeping, and it’s not like I print them off and hang them on my bathroom mirror so I can see them every morning when I brush my teeth and pop my zits, it’s no big deal, seriously.



I will not keep you waiting anymore.

I saw a doctor today, he said, “Congratulations, it’s a hernia.”

After we smoked a celebratory cigar together, he gave me a referral to a surgeon.


And then the surgeon will decide if he wants to cut me open or not.

But seriously, what surgeon passes on a chance to cut people?

Maybe I can convince them that duct taping a quarter to my belly button will do the trick.




Sarcasmically is not a word? It totally should be.

by Sarah Megonie on May 17, 2011

I thought only old men who lifted heavy boxes got hernias. You’re not an old box lifting man… Or are you?

by Margie on May 17, 2011

In response to your question Margie, I’ll defer to what my mom would say, in a Minnesota accent, “Ya never know with the internets…”

by Beckey on May 17, 2011

That. Sucks.
I broke my thumb last year and it was during a really stressful, busy time at work. And I was so busy during the day that I just couldn’t squeeze what was sure to be a 9-hour emergency room trip in. And I was so tired at night that I decided I would rather lie on my own couch in pain as long as there was something good on TV and operate my life with one hand than go to the doctors. So I did. And today, I can’t bend my thumb and it hurts when it’s really humid but fuck it, it was worth it.

by Yellaphant on May 17, 2011

You said your doctor referred you to a surgeon, not that you went and saw one. So go see the surgeon!! What will I read on my breaks at work if you die from a hernia? Think of your readers, woman!
Seriously, go see the surgeon too.

by Bellacantare on May 17, 2011

Have you had it for more than a year? Then you probably won’t be cut open yet. They like to give it a year to see if they heal on their own. Or if aliens pops from them.

by Libby on May 17, 2011

Mea has an umbilical hernia. The doctors have said over and over that unless it hurts they are just leaving it alone. It has slowly gotten smaller and smaller over the years. Hopefully the surgeon likes things to heal naturally…

by Kelly on May 20, 2011

I sent “saracasmically” off to the Webster Dic people(maybe “dic” is not a good short version of the word to use) and they were totally amazed at you and want to give you an actual goldmine. And they would like you to come up with more words please. And sorry about the hernia, I hope everything works out with that. But hey, now you have gold.

by Shayna on June 4, 2011

Just found you from Curly Girl and, ah oh, I’m hooked! I can ease in with you being on a vaca and all. I had one of those hernia things going on a few years ago-not poking out-but I ignored it and it went away. I think if you just get one of those wall repair kits, your problem would be solved. This from a professional needle phobe.

by Stephanie George Hirschberg on July 14, 2011

[…] you gotten that hernia looked at? If you don’t do it soon you’re going to need an intestinal transplant, and […]

by Sunset Talk | Hippo Brigade on September 28, 2011

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