Can You Baste My Turkey?


 A few days in the hospital is good for finding some humour in situations you can't control.

This time around, my bum was the butt of all jokes. My God, the first picture I saw was a dried out pig that had been roasting too long on a spit.  Wrinkled skin hanging off my backside with fluid filled blisters popping all over. Suddenly the peeling would start, strips of skin coming off in sheets that would impress Hannibal. Being told to leave it alone made it even itchier.

I swear, going to poop there were blisters that consumed the entire poop only to pop when wiping. My wonderful nurses Kim and Lisa would check my my arse for dry cracks, wounds and whatever else could be hiding back there. I would bend over mooning them so they could have a good look. So gently, they would butter up my arse, no fear of the hemorrhoid that kept watch and would wink at them plotting to take a shot and make way for a fart or worse.

They would have nice padded dressings to cover the problem areas as I was bent over showing off my asshole. I had no Idea if it was clean or not.

My fear was it would get covered up and I'd end up with trapped shit crawling up my back with no way to escape. It came close a couple times.

All this makes me think of Thanksgiving Turkey's in the oven, skin drying to a nice crisp and basting the bird.

Gives me a warm feeling to think these nurses caring hands did that for me. Only reward they got was a chance to see the horrors behind my backside and the fact that the hemorrhoids didn't part ways and allow my butthole to start spraying!

I am now blessed with a healing butterball that no longer looks like a pig that spent too much time in the sun.

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