I was really nervous about my visit to the colorectal surgeon. I just didn’t like all the implied anal activity I assumed this doctor was going to perform. It was really hard not to assume this guy loves asses; looking at them, touching them, playing hide the examination instruments, etc. Why else would he choose to specialize in this “area”?

The nurse finally called my name in the waiting room and led me to the doctor’s office. I was a little taken aback. I assumed we’d go straight to the examination room and everyone on the medical staff was going to get a peek at my ass; more for education purposes rather than entertainment, but you never know.

I sat down in the doctor’s office for my anal interview. He asked me many questions regarding my diet, medications, and exercise. We discussed anal fissures and looked at diagrams of the rectal area illustrating where fissures occur most frequently.

We eventually made our way to the examination room. The first thing that I noticed was that the examination table had a padded step at about knee height. I thought that was a really nice design for people that need a little boost to get themselves up on to the table. The doctor asked me to pull my pants down and kneel at the table. That’s when I realized that design I liked on the examination table wasn’t a step. While I was pulling my pants down I couldn’t help but notice how well disciplined my clothes were worn. Undershirt tucked into underwear, dress shirt tucked into dress pants, belt tightly fastened through all loops, and black socks cranked all the way up to my knees. Neither of us said anything while I was undressing, but I felt like the doctor was growing impatient with my systematic unveiling of my coal mine.

The examination table operated very much like a dental chair, but in the opposite direction. I remember thinking to myself, “damn, my ass is really high up in the air. Is he trying to get it to nose level? What the hell?” I was definitely in a very vulnerable position. This is when he started spreading my cheeks, I mean really s—p—r—e—a—d—i—n—g. If I didn’t have a fissure before my visit, I definitely had one now.

The doctor said he found the fissure and that it was actually bleeding while we spoke. Well, I thought, no shit! I bet I could make the doctor’s ass bleed too if I kneaded and stretched it like pizza dough, such as he did to me.

Next post will review suggested treatment.

Now that I knew I needed to see the doctor, I made an appointment. I fabricated a bunch of minor ailments that I wanted to be seen for to help with my embarrassment. I handled the situation very much like buying tampons or condoms; I load up my shopping basket with a ton of shit that I don’t need thinking the checkout person won’t notice. But instead what I think happens is the checkout person goes home and tells his friends and family that a guy came through his checkout line today and bought some mint gum, whipped cream, plastic baggies, COTTONELLE FRESH® Flushable Moist Wipes, National Inquirer, and some extra small condoms. It looked like that shopper was up to some sick shit!

Well, because I told the Doctor’s office that I had minor problems, they thought the young female physician assistant could handle my problems. She couldn’t have been much older than 25. She looked at my fake rash and advised me to put cortisone cream on it..etc. I finally got around to telling her why I was really there. She immediately said that it sounded like an anal fisher. I thought to myself, what does fishing have to do with this pain? She explained it was fissure not fisher. Oh, like a crack or a separation. Yep, that sounds like what I have. She then proceeded to quiz me. She asked if I have been doing any weird sexual <pause> activities, or inserting <another pause> items into my anus. I told her of course I haven’t done that. I don’t have any tattoos, but if I did decide to get one it would be of the word “exit” above my anus.

She could tell that I was wary about the whole situation so she asked me what I was worried about. I told her that my main concern was that I was hoping I didn’t need a colonoscopy. She laughed and said I didn’t need that, but she proceeded to say that she did need to insert her finger. I believe she did that to see if I was bleeding and what type of blood color. She never asked me what my second most concern was. It was getting anything inserted into my anus…finger, instrument…etc. It hurt back there and I didn’t want anything near it, remember this was all new to me at the time.

Her finger swab didn’t give the magical answer I think she and I were looking for. She decided she needed to spread my cheeks to see if she could get a visual of the fissure. I wish she started there rather than with the insertion. She was unable to see the fissure, but was fairly certain that I had one. She gave me a referral to a highly recommended colon & rectal surgery office. Surgery? I don’t like how that sounds. I have a cut. Give me a bandage or something. How is cutting the cut going to fix the problem? She advised me that I won’t need surgery, but that it would be best to see an expert in the field.

I have really made it a point to be regular with my bowel movements; every morning at the same time. I don’t ever want to be put in a situation where I’m at work and I need to drop a deuce. It’s standard bathroom maintenance to provide toilet paper, but I’ve never come across a bathroom that provides COTTONELLE FRESH® Flushable Moist Wipes. I’m not going to start carrying them around with me in a Ziploc® Storage Bag. I’m not a weirdo.

There I was sitting on the toilet that early morning reading the Ask Marilyn column in Parade magazine, when out of nowhere I flinched and said to myself holy sh*t. What the f***? That hurt like hell. Am I crying? I hope not! Damn that must have been a huge load I guess. When I wiped it felt a little tender, but I zipped up and went my merry way to work.

By the next morning I must have had some sort of short term amnesia. When I sat down on the toilet, I didn’t even consider the previous day’s discomfort. Again, same pain and I’m pretty sure this time I was crying. I examined the toilet paper after my first wipe and sure enough there was bright red blood; proof that there was damage, not just pain. I said to myself oh no, something’s wrong. I hate going to the doctor’s. I especially don’t want my ass examined. Plus I have a female family doctor that I think is great, but I didn’t want her fishing around in my ass. I really hoped it wasn’t anything serious. I definitely didn’t want a colonoscopy.

I just want to take this opportunity to simply mention how pleased I am to have come across these wipes (COTTONELLE FRESH® Flushable Moist Wipes). My ass has never been so clean. Seriously, if a person somehow got dog shit (or human shit) on his hand, is it really sanitary to just wipe it clean with bathroom tissue? Can you image going to a business meeting and shaking everybody’s hand? Gross! Why try to clean your ass with dry tissue when you can use a moist towelette? What do you think?

I mentioned in a previous post that my barium bowel movement might have torn my ass slightly. I say slightly because there was no unusual pain, besides the common feeling of forcing a constipated load out. Don’t be mistaken, it wasn’t fun. Still, I had no idea I was injured. Weeks, maybe even months, went by and I showed no signs of anal damage. What I did have, though, was an intense anal itch…especially at night.

When I was about six, a sibling of mine had been infected with pinworms. Curiosity had taken hold of me. I remember looking over my mother’s shoulder as she was spreading her young child’s butt cheeks to get a better look at those worms. Many of us have disturbing images of horrific events stored in our minds, and for whatever reason we just can’t seem to forget about them. Mine is of my sibling face down, ass up, cheeks spread and a clear view of those squirmy white worms. If you want to learn more regarding pinworms check out DrGreene.org.

Back to my ass problem. I would lie in bed late at night with the itchiest butt, and the reoccurring image that would pop into my head would be of my sibling’s worm-ass. The only thought that kept coming to mind was, “GREAT, I’m going to need to ask my wife to spread my cheeks and take a peek”. There has never been a time that I thought would be a good time for my wife to spread my ass regardless of reason, that’s not my style.

I’m really glad I never asked anyone to take a peek. I’m happy I know what I know now, but at the time I had no idea I had a fissure. I’d like to thank COTTONELLE FRESH® Flushable Moist Wipes. I would sit on the toilet and attempt to relieve my itch with a vigorous anal scrubbing with one or two wipes. It was as close to satisfying as I was going to get. Plus it helped preserve the integrity of my fingers. Not to mention, those wipes make for a very clean ass.

I am a 33 year old male married with children. I’ve had my anal fissure for almost two years now and for the most part I feel like I have it under control. I can’t say for sure when I first developed my anal fissure, but after a couple of years of trying to figure out how this could have happened to me, I’ve decided it was the end result of an Upper Gastrointestinal Tract X-ray (Upper GI) I had done almost three years ago.

If you are not familiar with the procedure of an upper GI, I’m going to give just a brief overview. You are asked to swallow a liquid substance called barium which allows the radiologist to view the anatomy and the function of your digestive organs (the upper parts). You consume the barium while the x-rays are being taken. You can read more about an upper GI here at radiologyinfo.org. *Remember, I’m not really a doctor…I’m just pretending to be one.

After the upper GI is complete, the barium still has to make its way through the whole digestive tract ending with a splash in the toilet. The problem with barium is that it isn’t easy to pass. My doctor advised me to drink a lot of water after my examination, which I did, but in retrospect I would have definitely taken a laxative…a lot them. When I went to the bathroom to pass my barium, it was very much like trying to push an 80lb bag of QUIKRETE® out of my ass.

Note: This is clearly coming from a man that has never given birth. I’m not going to suggest it was anything like giving birth, but now you have that image and you might better understand what it was like.

Much like QUIKRETE®, the barium I finally passed solidified itself to the bottom of the inside of my toilet bowl. The texture and color of the barium-bowel looked very much like concrete. It flushed like concrete too. As I was standing there with a wet stick in my hand, it took no less than 30 flushes to get it all to dissolve and go down.

It was this “end” result of the upper GI that I believe slightly tore my anus. *grunt*

I created this website because there was very limited information on the web about anal fissures when I was diagnosed with one. I wanted to share my experience with others that are going through the same ordeal (read PAIN). Don’t expect to find a lot of technical information about anal fissures here; that information can be found on other sites (check my anal fissure links). This isn’t the place to be embarrassed. Leave that for the workplace, when you have to tell your boss that you have to go to the doctor’s office…AGAIN.

Please note: Going forward I’m going to refer to my anus very often and I don’t plan on approaching the topic as if I’m at a tea party. An anal fissure is a pain in the ass, literally. I will be using the term “ass” quite often, and I will probably use a number of other crude terms. If you are easily offended…well, that doesn’t matter…if you have an anal fissure and you found this site, then you have a whole set of problems and concerns that need your attention and the use of crude language isn’t one of them.