Alright, alright, alright.
I went to the ER yesterday morning. I was having some numbness in my groin and could notice a slight bulge. Putting two and two together, the doctors diagnosed me with a hernia. For those of you not familiar, let me describe a hernia like this: Normally, the small intestine is held in solitary confinement within a muscular pouch. There are two small areas weak areas in this wall in everyone. Some people's are weaker than others. In a person with a hernia, the small intestine has managed to dig through this wall and is trying to make a getaway into the scrotum. Many people develop this condition, but that doesn't do anything to lessen the disgusting visualization of what is actually happening.
The doctors told me that the best way to get rid of the problem is to have elective surgery. In this surgery they place a mesh material over the weak spot for reinforcement. Unfortunately, I can't have this surgery until later this summer. This means that I will be competing in the triatlon with my hernia.
I've decided to name it. I'll call it Harry (the Hernia). In all conversations, please refer to him as Harry -- he hates being called names.
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