When I was growing up, back in the dark ages of the ‘60s, I used to love to watch the Andy Griffith Show. I’m not talking about the color show where Warren was the deputy and Gomer was in the Marines. I mean the old black and white show with Deputy Barney Fife. Barney would come over to Andy’s house and there was good old Aunt Bea who, along with her friend Clara Edwards, always had some health problem. “How’s your sciatica, Aunt Bea?” Barney would inquire. “Okay,” she would respond, “But my diverticulitis has been acting up.”
That was not particularly funny at the time, mostly because I had no idea what either sciatica or diverticulitis was. It still isn’t funny but, sadly, for a whole different reason. I know all too well what they both are now because…I am Aunt Bea.
I herniated my L4-L5 disc in 1995, which resulted in my first back surgery. Prior to the procedure, I would get this pain. I’m not talking about, “Oh my, that was uncomfortable.” I’m talking about, “Oh my God, I’ve been stabbed!” From my hip all the way down to my little toe, it was as sharp a pain as I have ever personally experienced. I went to the doctor and he said, “Well, you have sciatica.” All of a sudden I developed a compassion for Aunt Bea I never had before. That was only reinforced in 1999 when I ruptured my L5-S1 and had my second surgery. Poor Aunt Bea.
By 2007 I was doing well, having recovered nicely from two back surgeries and resuming as normal a life as an overweight, middle aged white man can expect, when I started noticing a pain in my abdomen that for the world made me think I was developing appendicitis, but it was on the wrong side. The next day I was in agony, so I went to the doctor. He poked me and said, “Does that hurt?” I kinda figured the ensuing scream answered him quite adequately. Says he, “You have diverticulitis.” Poor, poor Aunt Bea.
Fortunately this condition has not required surgery, yet. I dodged a bullet earlier this year when, after enjoying fresh blackberries at the home of my daughter, I came home to develop the pain that is now so familiar I called the doctor and told HIM what I had, no poking required. Over the next 12 weeks I had four attacks followed by four rounds of antibiotics. Finally I got over it, one round short of surgery. I can guarantee you I have not touched a blackberry, peanut or popcorn since then. There is so much more I could say but I must stop for now. Clara is coming over later and we are baking pies.
Tags: humor, Andy Griffith show, sciatica, diverticulitis, Aunt Bea
