Shit Show: Because You Might Need a Laugh…

Last night I went to urgent care. I had a tick head removed from my … Butt.

I write this blog because I needed an outlet for my mind. I always hoped one experience I write about can bring solace to someone. Or maybe inspire them. But this post is strictly to give insight into how goofy my luck is. I always say my life would make a great sitcom, on HBO of course. It would be called “The Shit Show”. And it’s doomsday election day here in the states, so we need to laugh.

Saturday the boy and I went in the woods in the back. I snapped some cute photos of him running in the leaves and being his normal cute self.


Saturday night I was busy playing with the boy still and J. I fell asleep in my pants I was wearing all day (Jeggings so I was super comfy)

Sunday morning was a depressing drop off with my ex. I stayed in bed crying until 1:00 in the afternoon and then jumped in the shower.

I was scrubbing away and then I felt something on my left butt cheek. Like a flap of skin or something. I pulled and tugged until it ripped off. I wear glasses but not in the shower so I lifted it up to my face pretty close. And when I saw it was a bug… I flipped and dropped it in the bathtub.

Shower was still running water, I jumped out, grabbed my towel and ran downstairs. Mom and dad were talking in the kitchen. I told them what happened and asked if they think it was a tick. Dad left. Mom inspected my butt. Yup. A tick. And the head was still in my butt.

I spent an hour or so digging at it with a needle and tweezers until I said “Fuck it” and pulled my pants up. It was sore. I named the tick head in my butt “Tatiana Tick Head” and I went to J’s.

It was “bugging” me but I tried to be to … ticked off (ok I’m done). Monday morning at work everyone couldn’t believe I left the tick head in my butt. Lyme disease is serious and I was not treating it that way. So I went home, I hung out with the boy and I went to seriously consider going to urgent care.

Then this happened:

Yes. I put it out in Facebook. Because it’s comical. And Facebook (the world in general) has been so serious.

So I decided I’ve had enough. Done. No more effing tick.

So I kept going:

The doctor dug that nasty tick out. I thanked him for picking at my butt. I scooped up the tiny bit of pride I had. Went to my car.

But seriously. That Diagnoses:


Welcome to the Shit Show.


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