Although Pilonidal may have have always been in my body it wasn’t until I was 14 on a bus ride home from school that the perils of my life started.
I was sitting in the front of the bus talking as usual when we hit what seemed like the worlds biggest pot hole. I flew up and crashed down hard on my tail bone. Limping home from the bus stop I thought my back was broken. Within days the pain was unbearable and I couldn’t go to school. I laid around slipping in and out of sleep because standing was impossible.
My wonderful and caring mother made sure I got to the bathroom and would lay a heated towel on the area. It was about the size of a lemon when a week later I gathered up enough strength to scream. I laid there screaming until my oldest brother ran in to see what was wrong. He had my sister take me to the hospital and on the ride over there was a burst, followed by instant relief… I was checked into emergency and instead of waiting the million hours I was rushed to the back stripped down and helped into a gown by one nurse while another explained “surgery” “immediate” “hopefully” words flew over my increasingly dizzying head…
I was lifted and placed on a gourney then lead down a dark hall that resembled a hospital corridor in a horror film. The smell of rotted tissue and puss lingered through the halls like a terrible perfume. Finally I was brought to the small surgery room. My mother came in followed a few hours later by a young male doctor he explained that for the last month I had a cyst. It came to a head with my mothers use of the heated towels and had infected the tissue and my blood stream. The words possible death from blood poisoning shocked my mother to tears…and the crude rushed surgery began. He lifted my gown and said this will numb the area. I saw him pick up one of several giant needles and inserted them into my back. I let out the terrifying scream that someone had closed the door it was my sister and her best friend. Every part of my body was numb except for my back and as I watched the doctor lift his scalpel I protested NO and when he told me we have to do this my protests turned to begging. I cried and pleaded and as an obedient daughter when my mother told me to be still I tried my hardest to oblige.
Within seconds I could feel the Sharp blade tearing into my skin. The incision was small but felt like it trailed down my entire back. Once open a foul cloud so strong filled the room like burning mustard gas. We all choked and when I thought the hurting finally ceased the doctor put a tube inside of the incision and filled a bottle with curddled mass and blood. I. Fainted. When I woke up a women nurse stood sticking the top of my hands with needles “looking for a vain” she said. After five tries she finally got it and drew blood. My mother still in the corner soothed me to sleep and hours later I woke up to my sister, her friend, my mother, my clothes, and a few gifts from the gift shop.
After being there the entire day we made our way home. My brothers had set up my bed downstairs and my mother showed them how to change my dressings in case she could not. They didn’t want to see my “butt” lol however because of the angle I couldn’t very well do it myself. Medicine, dressings, sleep, moan, medicine, dressings, hospital, sleep, moan….finally I began to have some life put back into me and on my last check up, the doctor said no more gauze keep the area clean etc etc. I will have scaring but when I am of age I can seek cosmetic surgery..
My mother and I left and had McDonald’s. Pt.2 I had been diagnosed within that year, and returning to school was difficult. I told everyone I hurt my back, and that seemed to be accepted by my peers. I still had drainage and even notice swelling to this day mostly around my monthly period. More cysts developed after that first year most of them smaller and on my pubic area or under arm. The biggest issue became embarrassment and odor. I’m native American and Black, and my skin is fairly light brown so the boils, dark spots and cysts show clearly… I’ve avoided shorts, and would keep my thighs together while wearing a long t-shirt at the pools in the summer time. I also have eczema so I’m constantly trying to care for my skin.
I’m 26 now and have bad/better days. I wish there were a magic cure but through reading I take special care of my diet and take vitamins. I’ve gained more self-confidence with age and pray this condition doesn’t worsen. I live a happy life and though I only notice bad break outs during my cycle I do try to keep the surface of my skin clean my exfoliating, conditioning, and cleaning. I still get a little uncomfortable with shorts and pray that when I have a husband and become intimate he is understanding….
To everyone facing the same condition you are not alone, and although there are times you may not believe it you are truly beautiful inside and out! “Your beauty was perfect, because of the glory I gave you, says the Lord God.” – Ezekiel 16:14