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The Masked Tulip

I Think I Might Have Finally Come Out - Apparently It Was Inevitable

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It happens to us all apparently. Well, it is more likely to happen to men in their middle-age as opposed to when they are young. But it can happen to men of all ages. Looks like it is time for me to come out. To come clear about all of this.

I cycle daily. About 3 months ago I developed a lump on my bottom.

I thought it was a haemorrhoid or a skin tag so I bought some cream and some suppositories. They didn't work. I bought some more and tried again. Nope. Did not work.

I then consulted google and looked at alternative remedies online - NEVER EVER try the apple cider vinegar or red cider vinegar suggestions, of which there are numerous people suggesting this online, as, well, I now wish to hunt them all down and kill them. What was I thinking - I know basic science!

NEVER EVER put vineger near your sensitive bits. If you meet someone who recommends this - kill them! Kill them now!!!

Then I tried the aloe vera - actually, not too bad. (Was Heaven after the vinegar.). But did not work.

Next was the tea tree oil - actually, not too bad also. But did not work.

Did not bother with the witch hazel suggestion.

In the end I went to see my doc last Friday. I had photographs to show him. (Don't ask - suffice to say, it is damn difficult if you are single and you wish to take a photo of your bottom.).

My doc is the type that he will cut things off given half the chance but, looking at the photos, he was not sure what was going on. He did admire my photographic skills though. I even managed to frame it so that a hill-walker wearing a woolly red jumper was in shot. (That's a joke for the Kodak generation.).

Instead he wanted to do a full examination - camera included - and, amazing for the NHS, the surgery fitted me in straight away. (The quickness of the examination appointment is indicative of why it is important for men to get such things seen to.).

Now the reason why I am sharing this all with you is that, well, for several weeks I went out of my way to find an excuse NOT to see my GP. Even on the morning of the appointment I kept googling whether I truly needed to see my GP or not. About a thousand times last Friday morning I considered cancelling the appointment.

My point being that my GP decided things were urgent enough to get me seen to ASAP. In truth, I should have gone to see him 3 months back. But, being a bloke, I decided to try and find any other possible solution rather than having someone prod around my bits.

To cut a long story short I had a camera up my bottom this morning. And a finger belonging to my GP. I did draw the line at his fist... Well, OK, I made that last bit up.

It was no-where near as bad as my imagination made out and nor was it that embarrassing. In fact, I have come away reassured and feeling quite confident about things.

My point being that if you have any problems or worries in that part of the world, be you male or female, then don't, no pun intended, beat around the bush. Just go and see your GP ASAP. In fact, it is something that all men of a certain age should have done anyhow.

I am just worried now that I will regret not enjoying the moment more.

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Evetyone has sat on the bum telescope! :unsure:

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So is everything alright fella? "Could have been worse" in a stoic sense, or because it simply turned out to be a pimple or some such?

P

The lump is a skin tag. Apparently I have some sizeable internal haemorrhoids, which apparently is common as we age but something to keep an eye on, but everything else is fine.

When I was ill for several years I had IBS and have some kind of coeliacs going on so that has been a nagging concern at the back of my mind.

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I don't understand. When you say you had a 'lump on your bottom', do you mean your arsehole?

No, I meant rectrum but I didn't want to draw attention to it. I am glad that you are the only one to know this :mellow:

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No, I meant rectrum but I didn't want to draw attention to it. I am glad that you are the only one to know this :mellow:

The whole world knows now! :( Yes I've had this intrusive procedure. Nothing was found though, as I had forgotten to leave the light on.

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If this were Facebook, you could "Tag your friends" I'm this wonderful post and share the experience :blink:

P

I am pretty sure that google automatically uploaded my photos to the internet anyway.

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Eat more vegetables and fibre. I've got one flaring up at the moment. Not much pain and it's getting less each day. Thank God for moist toilet paper.

Had one a few years back after a bout of gastro-enteritis. Ouch that was painful. Lots of hot baths needed.

About a decade ago after over exerting myself lifting something far too heavy I had a terrible one. Literally agonising to sit down for about a week.

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As I think I have mentioned before I had what I thought was a bruise done below but turned out to be an access. Deep heat is not the answer.

Edit. Bad autocorrect. Abscess is the right word.

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The Dutch for instance are obsessed about their sh*ts. They even design their toilets to have a ledge so they can examine it before flushing....and freely share their findings with all and sundry.

StrontBook is big over there.

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Good news nothing more sinister. Time to invest in a bigger saddle perhaps?

When I first read your post I thought...Pilonodal cyst. Don't google it....seriously DON'T :)

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To cut a long story short I had a camera up my bottom this morning. And a finger belonging to my GP. I did draw the line at his fist... Well, OK, I made that last bit up.

It was no-where near as bad as my imagination made out and nor was it that embarrassing. In fact, I have come away reassured and feeling quite confident about things.

My point being that if you have any problems or worries in that part of the world, be you male or female, then don't, no pun intended, beat around the bush. Just go and see your GP ASAP. In fact, it is something that all men of a certain age should have done anyhow.

I am just worried now that I will regret not enjoying the moment more.

A well timed thread.

It's my turn next Tuesday and must admit I keep thinking about cancelling it.

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Always reminds me of my grans house.

Do they call it this because you have to be heavily medicated before you use the stuff?? :blink:

P

Quite possibly. When I was a student they still had hard toilet paper in the university buildings. I once had an attack of diarhhrhehoeoaea which had me trapped for most of an afternoon and I had to use the shiny stuff about 15 times in the space of a couple of hours. I was quite badly injured for a couple of weeks after that. I genuinely think it did me permanent damage.

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Good news nothing more sinister. Time to invest in a bigger saddle perhaps?

When I first read your post I thought...Pilonodal cyst. Don't google it....seriously DON'T :)

Yes, I have a worn spot in the exact corresponding spot on my saddle.

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A well timed thread.

It's my turn next Tuesday and must admit I keep thinking about cancelling it.

Well, don't. It is over faster than you think and you wonder then why you got so anxious about nothing.

Just don't make the same mistake I made by wearing the stockings & suspenders ;)

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I love men. They'd rather talk openly to strangers (and, face it, we're all pretty strange) on the Internet about worrying, personal health problems than share them with the one person who is bound by the rules of confidentiality to keep them secret; the GP. ?

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I then consulted google and looked at alternative remedies online - NEVER EVER try the apple cider vinegar or red cider vinegar suggestions, of which there are numerous people suggesting this online, as, well, I now wish to hunt them all down and kill them. What was I thinking - I know basic science!

NEVER EVER put vineger near your sensitive bits. If you meet someone who recommends this - kill them! Kill them now!!!

Then I tried the aloe vera - actually, not too bad. (Was Heaven after the vinegar.). But did not work.

In defence of cider vinegar, I did cure a wart with it. Horrible, unkillable wart. A couple of weeks with a vinegar soaked cotton wool ball taped over it and it was completely gone. Never came back. However, there was a midpoint where I had nothing but an acid-etched hole in my flesh.

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I love men. They'd rather talk openly to strangers (and, face it, we're all pretty strange) on the Internet about worrying, personal health problems than share them with the one person who is bound by the rules of confidentiality to keep them secret; the GP.

Going to the doc's is too much like being summoned up in front of the headmaster. Or, worse, headmistress. HPC OT is what goes on behind the bike sheds.

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