In the summer of 2013, blood dripped from my tailbone onto my boxers, so much that my boxers became sticky and tough to pull. This occurred right before 10pm, with my mom on a hammock and me growing worried about this mess. I alerted my mom and when she first saw it, a loud gasp came out, "We need to go to the hospital," she said. What happened from that point forward are things I never thought I'd have to deal with.
My mom and I took a train to Jersey City Medical Center the morning after the bloody-boxer incident. It was about eight in the morning and I was on a hospital bed with my mom on to my left. As we both stared into the TV above us, my mind became clouded with questions: What's going to happen to me? How painful will it be? And how long will it take for me to recover?
The clock would strike nine in the morning and after hearing about the murder of Trayvon Martin, a doctor came over and asked how I was doing. I never saw this doctor before or the staff alongside him.
After much conversation, the clock turned to noon and the doctors and staff told me that I had an abscess by my tailbone. At first, I thought it was a little pimple, but it became much worse than I thought.
What was explained to me was that there were hairs around the abscess that grew into my skin, leaving an infected area that required a much-needed operation. Then came the operation. They were going to inject the abscess with needles and squeeze the sucker out, blood and puss included. I had to basically lay on my stomach while this all happened.
Six injections later, that son of a b*tch was out and needless to say, I've never been in more pain ever. I also never squeezed a pillow that hard ever, yeah it hurt that much.
Afterwards, I got hungry because I had gone that whole morning without eating anything. Luckily, they hooked me up with some food and I laid on the hospital bed for a while before leaving. I don't know what happened, but for whatever reason, as soon as I walked to the bathroom, I vomitted. I guess it was all those injections. The doctors then gave my mom instructions on how to treat it. She had to insert packing paper in the little hole left over to absorb any leftover blood. After that, she'd have to put gauze over it and then tape over the gauze. This process would be done for more than a month. My mom and I then took a train home.
Getting out of bed had become a struggle. I was rolling out of there without trying to be in more pain. It's harder than you think when you realize you have to move out of bed without hurting your tailbone in any way. The pain wouldn't end until November of 2013, a few months after the ordeal. I thought it was over, I thought I'd never have to deal with this ever again, but boy was I wrong.
This past summer, a similar situation occurred. It was the bloody-boxer incident, only this time it happened during the afternoon. After two visits to a health clinic in Hoboken, it was decided that I should have my first ever surgery. And yes, I had to sign a consent form in order to have the surgery.
It was October 21st of 2016, and it was time. I got up at 7am, showered, got dressed and headed out to the Jersey City Medical Center again with my mom. We left the house at 7:40am and got to the medical center at 8:30. I couldn't eat anything until after the operation. We entered the hotel, got our pictures taken and headed up to the second floor for registration. "Same-day surgery" was the lettering read on the door upon entering it, where I then laid on the hospital bed again, no television to look at this time, also with my mom by my side. Flashbacks of the first visit back in 2013 came over me.
Dr. Schragg would be the man to perform the surgery along with his team of doctors, a team that also included two medical students. Schragg was also the man I saw back at the medical clinic in Hoboken. After being undressed, I had to wear this robe to cover me, along with a pair of socks the hospital gives you, man those socks were so comfortable. I then had my blood drawn and got put on an I.V. to treat me for hydration. I gave my phone, clothes and glasses to my mom as it was now time. My surgery was scheduled for 11am, but didn't happen until almost 11:30am. I was transported to the Emergency room to be operated on. I didn't know what happened from that point forward.
I don't think I woke up until 3pm; I was groggy and moved very slowly. I was told that the surgery was a success, and I smiled. My eyes opened and closed for a while, my mom gave me a kiss on the forehead and I could barely move because of the anesthesia.
Standing up and walking to the bathroom after the surgery was the ultimate struggle. I've never been so dizzy before, but I'm glad I stood upright and never fell. I was then given instructions as to how to deal with the dizziness and eating, among other things. My mom was given medicine -- three prescription meds and gauze, packing to be exact. The only thing I wanted at the time were some Halls because I had a sore throat from a tube being put down my throat.
I was given food in the recovery room -- a half-bagel with butter, apple juice, a muffin and a peach Yoplait yogurt. Needless to say, it was exactly what I needed after being told I couldn't eat heavy foods. I also couldn't shower, drive or workout for two days. I asked my mom for my phone so I can listen to sports radio, but when I then realized that it was now 4pm, I guess I took a pretty good nap. My mom got us a taxi and we arrived home at about 4:50pm. I then got a call from Dr. Schragg to see how I was doing and he explained to me what happened during the operation. They removed the abscess and cleaned out the infected area, giving it the best chance of not having an abscess again.
Since I couldn't eat heavy foods, I was restricted to eating soups, yogurts and some pudding. Doing homework and playing video games were also part of my routine. Getting out of bed became the struggle, again.
But I'm now in recovery mode, and by the time you're reading this, I'll be closer to 100 percent. Day by day.
