A pupik perspective

Warning to the squeamish.  The following anecdote may be graphic and smelly.

Last summer I had belly button surgery.  No, it was not cosmetic, as my previously existing bellybutton (or BB) was quite adorable.  Not to be cocky...or bellybutton-y.  Anyway is there anything more embarrassing than going into the hospital for BB surgery?  It started with some severe abdominal pains.  I'm not one to rush to the doctor readily.  So, I didn't think anything of it when I was doubled over in pain, unable to stand erect.  It was when the pus started oozing from my BB that I became concerned.  And not just any pus, pretty much the foulest smelling thing that has ever been smelled.  I called it putrescent umbilical essence.

So I went to  a "doctor" who said I was fine and told me to check back in a couple days.  Two days and flowing pus later, I went back.  He sent me for an mri or ultrasound or something, although I assured him I wasn't pregnant.  Well, at the scanny place, they make you drink an un-humanly amount of this vial lemon-scented concoction.  I went in for the scan, and although I am not claustrophobic, I thought I was going to blow chunks.  Well they found a cyst.  So I had it drained, which involved local needles to the abdomen, followed by a larger needle to suck the fluid out.  Not a day at the beach, to say the least.

This led to a hard scab forming, as if I had just had my umbilical cord cut 43 years too late.  This wouldn't have been so bad - if we weren't about to take a family cruise--the aforementioned cruise of doom.  I couldn't really expose my bb to the tropical sun.  Fine.  Cruising along and somewhere on the boat my bb falls off.  There's a hard black, dime-sized scab somewhere on the Carnival Splendor.  Anyway, finally went in for surgery.  Turns out I had an umbilical hernia.  I'm all better now, but I can't say the same for my previously adorable bb or the Carnival Splendor.