For months I had what I believed to be a boil, abscess, or ingrown hair or something right on the crack of my ass. Right up at the top where the tailbone ends. It kind of itched and puffed up, so I called the doctor’s office and told the receptionist that I had a boil, abscess, or tumor somewhere between my toes and my teeth. She laughed hardily at this. So when I went in the doctor told me that it was a tail. You heard me! A tail!
Now – I was shocked, yes, but not as much as I would have been had my Uncle not had a tail removed years before. His was actually a furry grey and black thing, like a chimp would have. Now mine and my Uncle’s both were subdermal or underneath the skin. Believe me, if I could have kept the thing I would have, as this would have indeed helped to accentuate my Bohemian image. Besides, if I went blind and deaf I could still make a living in a carnival tent down South somewhere. It had to be removed though, because it would have to be lanced and drained every six months to a year. When I first went in to my regular doctor he lanced the thing and it stung like nothing I have ever felt, so I let out a few choice expletives to which he responded, “I see you have Tourette’s Syndrome as well”. It took me years to find a doctor that was this charming. About a cup of this crap oozed out of the thing and started running down my leg and into the crack of my ass. He then wadded up some bandages and taped them in place, and made an appointment to see a specialist. I went back to work after the evil thing was drained and I was taking my afternoon break, walking around the building, when all of the sudden I felt what I thought was a rodent or something scampering down my pant leg. I shook my left foot and this bloody roll of gauze flopped out into the parking lot. I kind of just shook my foot and let out a “yuch” like it was an abandoned tampoon or something, just in case anyone was watching (it’s still out there by the way).
So I meet the surgeon for the first time and he explains the whole tail thing and that it was merely the remnants of a tail, and that this was a fairly common occurrence. Fairly common occurrence?! We were all so shocked when my Uncle had this thing that we never really spoke of it much. Besides he had somewhat of a feral persona and we figured that there were some jackals in our family lineage somewhere down the line. You just don’t hear about this a whole lot you know.
So I did some research and there are many people with these tails I guess. Human embryos have tails at their inception but they drop off or develop shorted or something. I was one of the few who’s “tail” decided to hang on. I decided to have it removed rather than going in every once in a while for a draining. Yuch! Then to toss me a loop, this surgeon, during my initial consultation, asks me “when are you getting that hair cut?” What the hell is this now? I said, “what – are you my Baptist minister now or what?” I told him that I thought I had four more inches to go to donate it to Locks of Love, the organization that takes your ponytail and makes wigs for kids who have undergone chemotherapy and have lost their hair. This threw the surgeon for a loop. I’m 43 and far beyond my youthful rebellion or trying to make some kind of statement about my teenage angst because nobody understands me. I got over that when I realized that most people don’t understand me at all, no matter what age I am. Plus I have all the charm and physical beauty of a Junebug.
I thought the hair comment was his attempt at humor, so I cut him some slack, but then when I went in for my post-op appointment the dude chewed me out for not keeping the stitched area clean (I was told NOT to get them wet and that I could shower two days after my surgery, as long as I didn’t touch or scrub the stitches). Then he goes into this tirade about how I wore the wrong type of underwear. He just threw his hands up and made another appointment for a week after that to remove the stitches. This left me really not having a lot of love for this surgeon, so now I’m thinking about some clever message or picture I can apply to my ass with a Sharpy for my next visit.