Justine sat quietly on the corner couch of the waiting room, looking at the snowflakes drifting slowly with the wind outside the room. She felt no particular affection to the furniture in this waiting room, or to any other hospital waiting room she had been in the past months. She brought reading materials with her, but today - well, today was just a day meant for relaxing and watching the snowflakes do their gentle dance. No better way to spend a peaceful evening the day before her twentieth birthday than relaxing, letting the stiffness eases out of her back.
This was the only gentleness in about the last 14 months. She lost both parents in a terrible airplane crash just over 11 months ago. Something about icing on the wings, loss of stability control - the plane smashed into the runway, killing everyone aboard. Her grandfather was all the family she had. He immediately flew in from where he lived, stepped in and took control of everything from funeral arrangements, to the insurance people, to the federal people trying to politely investigate the crash. He had grieved the loss of her parents, his daughter, as much as she, but it did not show as much on him as it did on her mind and emotions.
Her grandmother had passed some years ago from cancer; it had been a short but mean illness once she had been diagnosed. She was too far along when it was discovered to attempt anything more than pain reduction and hospice to ease her issues. Justine was just ten years old when she died; she remembered seeing the quiet pain in her grandfather's eyes. It was still crystal clear - the slow tears that came down his cheeks as she held his hand on one side, her mother on the other, as the casket was lowered into place, the vault lid slid quietly into its solemn position, and the grave site was cleared of human trappings so it would look as natural as possible.
Now, it was just a routine event that had her again sitting in a generic hospital waiting room. Her grandfather had delayed some minor "male adjustment surgery," as he liked to call it, to fix a hernia that he had gotten years before. It was a standard, routine surgery done thousands of times, in dozens of hospitals across the country. Now that most everything to do with her tragedy had been worked out, he could take the time to get it repaired. The only problem appeared about a week before the surgery when he developed an abscess, in of all places, right behind his testicles, He made no big deal of it - according to him, and this had happened probably 5-6 -7 times through his life. Something with how his hair follicles wouldn't let the hair escape the skin properly. Being as he was Type II diabetic, this made him more susceptible to minor infections, it took longer to heal, etc. He would get a "zit," or an infected hair follicle, and it would balloon into an abscess in a matter of 3-4 days, which is how this instance occurred.
The issue of where he got these irritations had always been somewhat of a running joke when he had told Justine about the short change in plans. She had never been exactly "left out" according to her parents where sex education was concerned. She had the requisite health classes, had seen her dad's penis once or twice when she was little because they all three would shower together, but no one made a huge deal out of her seeing any family member nude. It was just what happened in some daily routines when the schedules allowed, or some weekends. She could not remember anything spectacular, and having no brother to also check out as some of her friends would do, he memories were pretty vague about "down there."
The one, lone, former boyfriend who wanted to touch her breasts on a date was singularly distressed that she had more of a clinical reaction than wanting to pursue touching him and "have sex." He left her standing in the driveway as he sped off down the street, obviously pissed off, and less than impressed with her attitude. Justine marked it up as interesting, but not particularly exciting - he had pinched her skin when he stuck his hand inside her bra so that put her off and it was only worse as he groped around trying to find her nipples. Since she would not take off her blouse he had to contend with getting into the top or the bottom band straps of her bra. He was not pleased about her lack of enthusiasm, and even more pissed that she wouldn't touch his penis. She saw no need to either touch or stroke his penis. She had no real knowledge of size but his just didn't seem all that long, or that big.
Since her grandfather had told her it was no problem for him to his this minor procedure, she took him at his word and left arrangements to check in on him. Justine got up, checked with the nurse's desk, and then walked down the corridor to the private room where her grandfather had just been placed after returning from Post-Op. She was listed as sole next-of-kin so there was no issue with her being in the room. As she was standing at the door, the surgeon came up to greet her and discuss how the surgery had gone. He explained that the surgery went as expected, that there were no complications, and as the same thing that the last time her grandfather had this kind of minor rectal region surgery, he would feel some minor pain and need to keep things clean along with changing the bandage often for a week.
"Wait a moment, "said Justine, "I thought this was minor surgery, but you just said 'rectal surgery. What is going on here?"
"Ms. Jones, it was and it is minor surgery," said the surgeon, "It's just that where it's located on a male patient is known as the perirectal region. That is the area more or less right behind the testicles and before the anal ring begins. If it were slightly closer to his anus, I would probably call it a perianal abscess. Peri just means close or near."
The surgeon continued, "he will need to make sure he keeps the area clean and cautious in which direction he uses toilet paper or other materials for about 2 weeks until he comes in for a follow up check. The small stitches will dissolve and he will need to sit and soak about an hour a day starting in 3-4 days."
Justine thanked him for explaining what he did, and what must be done to keep any infections out of the incision area. She found it mildly amusing that she was discussing her grandpa's ass with a stranger, and that she had no idea of what her grandfather even looked like without any underwear. Oh well, it fit into the 'shit happens' category; she went and quietly opened the door. The doctor had said he'd be groggy for about 2 more hours, and then need some mild pain medication like extra strength Tylenol for discomfort "in the nether regions."
