This all started out with blurry vision. No, I didn't drink myself into a coma and shit myself. At least I wouldn't remember that, and could feign ignorance while hiding the evidence. I am a grown man and have shit my pants.
Now when I tell this story, some of you may wonder why in the fuck are you telling your friends this story, let alone making it public knowledge and posting it on the internet for God knows who to see. The answer is simple, I am fucking stupid. I have to look at stuff like this and laugh about it, and hopefully you will join me in laughter and limit the mocking that is sure to come. These are the nuances that make us human/flawed. This isn't necessarily something that defines my life, but it is a big fucking deal right today. You might be a star athlete, a talented musician or perhaps really good at naps; I shit my pants in front of an attractive Asian babe, and I couldn't have been happier.
Here we go.
I recently had some blurry vision in one of my eyes, so I went to an optometrist to see what the fuck was going on. He basically freaked out at what he saw, and sent me to a ophthalmologist the next morning. I went to the ophthalmologist the next morning and he too couldn't tell what was going one, but felt it was very serious and sent me to a retina specialist the same day.
The retina specialist gave me some insight, he told me that he believed that I had a Retinal Hemangioblastoma and that it was very serious and I would need to see the head of the retinal oncology department at the closest medical center. He told me that I had a high likelihood of having a very severe genetic disorder known as Von Hippel-Lindau Syndrome. Awesomesauce.
I was to meet with the specialist the next day, so I went home and did some research on the tumor in my eye and on the disorder that I may have. Scary fucking shit. I basically had a 50% chance of having the disorder. The disorder had an average of mortality of 45. So, I was looking at a 50% chance of dying a very miserable death at 45.
The next day, the retinal oncology specialist confirmed what I had been told and scheduled me for surgery in a couple of weeks. In all reality, I didn't take this very seriously at the time. I felt it was out of my hands, and all that I could do was try and live my life like I normally do. I didn't know if I had the disease, as it would take 4-12 weeks to get the results back from genetic testing. I am not a high stress individual, and I kept myself preoccupied with menial tasks.
Fast forward to surgery day.
I arrived at the hospital and checked in for surgery, I sat in the lobby with my mother for about 45 minutes waiting for my name to be called. It was surreal, very ominous when the moment came. Needless to say, I was scared. I had never had major surgery, the only thing missing from my body's original parts were my wisdom teeth. I was fucking terrified, a few weeks of distraction and hiding my fear was being forced to a head and preparing to erupt. I met my nurse, he was a very nice guy. He asked if I had to use the bathroom, and kept me talking about work. He did a fantastic job of distracting me. He told me to strip down to my underwear and put on my gown and lie down on the hospital bed. I did as he asked and was down to my lucky pair of underwear. This was the point of no return for me. I sat there mostly naked, completely exposed. I was as vulnerable as I ever have been.
I put on the gown, and it made me more uneasy. I lay down and waited for his return. He came back with my anesthesiologist. My nurse put a saline IV in, and as he did I noticed that the expiration date was Sept. 11. Fucking Christ, the universe likes to fuck with you. The anesthesiologist told me what was going to happen, he was going to give me some medicine to knock me out, then they would place a tube down my throat and push gas into my lungs to keep me out. Eventually my surgeons came in and told me they were about ready to go. I noticed for the first time how hot one of them was. She was an absolutely smoking hot Asian babe. I took note that I would have to hit on her after this was all over. The anesthesiologist gave me the shot and they started to wheel me into surgery.
As I lay there, things got fuzzy as the medicine kicked in and I basically could only see this. I soon blacked out, hoping to wake up.
I woke up to the same picture as before, but I was panicking! Something was going wrong. I couldn't move, but I could see and hear. Everyone kept telling me to calm down and breathe deeply. I couldn't, I was helpless and all that I knew was at that very moment, I couldn't stop myself from shitting. I yelled out “OH GOD, I AM SHITTING MY PANTS!” They told me to relax. “BUT I'M SHITTING MY PANTS!” They told me it was normal. It didn't feel normal, I was scared and alone all I could feel were my ass cheeks filling with poo. Everything went black.
I awoke again, completely filled with embarrassment. I didn't care about my eye. Not only had my right eye failed me, but my brown eye had failed me in the most drastic of times. My butthole had committed treason most foul against me. My anus had run in fear in the heat of battle with the enemy. I legally could have had it executed at the time and none of my other sphincters would have held it against me.
The first thing I said when I awoke was “Jesus Christ, I shit my pants.” My mom was sitting across from me. My nurses were there too and said, “Oh you remember that eh?” “Don't worry about it, it happens all the time.” I sat there, filled with shame, completely empty of dignity and poo.
My surgeon, the hot Asian babe, came in and told me that they had found no tumor in my eye. It had merely been some irregular blood vessels that had been bleeding for some time. They thought a pool of blood was a tumor. She told me that no tumor meant no Von Hippel-Lindau syndrome. I was ecstatic. I wanted to propose to her on the spot, but I couldn't. It is a rule written in the MANual. She was still incredibly hot, but I had shit my pants in front of her and therefore couldn't make a play at her; I have never been happier.
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